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                  UNDER THE

          WILLOW TREE.

DON'T you remember the vows so tender,
You fondly pledged to me,
When the stars and the moon so sweetly shone,
'Twas under the Willow Tree :
You vow'd you'd never deceive me,
And fondly I believ'd thee,
When the moon shone so sweetly
Over the Willow Tree.
                            Don't you remember, &c.

Why did you say my lips were red,
And made the scarlet pale,
Ah ! why did I poor silly maid,
Believe the flatt'ring tale ;
I thought you'd ne'er deceive me,
So fondly I believed thee,
When you vow'd so sweetly,
You loved no other but me.
                            Don't you remember, &c.

Did you but know the silent tear,
I've so fondly shed for thee,
I never close my languid eyes,
Unless I dream of thee ;
And of joys that are departed,
And I think now broken hearted,
On your words when last we parted,
I love no other but thee.
                            Don't you remember, &c.

Would I could tear you from my heart,
But that will never be,
Till I lie in the silent grave,
Under some Willow Tree ;
Then should you that way wander,
You'll heave a sigh and ponder,
In her cold grave lies yonder,
One that died for love of me.
Then you'll remember the vows so tender,
You falsely pledged to me,
When the stars and the moon so sweetly shone,
                            Over the Willow Tree.

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THE LAND WE LIVE

                  IN.

The sparkling liquor fills the glass,
And briskly round the board it goes,
We toast of course our favourite lass,
And drink confusion to our foes :
Then each in turn the catch, the glee,
The song, the toast, is giving,
And ever, as it comes to me,
I give the land we live in.
Then, rising, all throughout agree,
With a loud huzza and three times three,
I give the land we live in.

The Captain always gives the King,
His bosom burns a loyal flame ;
And how the decks with praises ring,
At valiant Smith and Nelson's name !
God save the Queen and family !
We soon in turn are giving ;
And ever, as it comes to me,
I give the land we live in !
Then rising, &c.

Some folks may envy foreign parts,
And wish to gain a distant shore ;
Why, let them go, with all our hearts,
We shall be plagued with them no more.
But while on shore on English ground,
The toast we tars are giving,
O loudly let the air resound,
The glorious land we live in.
Then let all rise, and join with me,
In a loud huzza, with three times three,
To drink the land we live in.

George Walker, Jun., Printer, Sadler-Street, Durham.
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