SALLY IN OUR ALLEY Of all the girls that are so smart And she lives in our alley. Is half so sweet as Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. Her father he makes cabbage-nets, And through the streets does cry 'em; Her mother she sells laces long To such as please to buy 'em: But sure such folks could ne'er beget She is the darling of my heart, When she is by, I leave my work, I'll bear it all for Sally; And she lives in our alley. 8 16 24 Sally in Our Alley Of all the days that 's in the week And that's the day that comes betwixt For then I'm drest, all in my best, My master carries me to church, When Christmas comes about again, I'll hoard it up, and box it all, I'll give it to my honey: I would it were ten thousand pound, She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. My master and the neighbours all 48 40 32 1729? But when my seven long years are out, O, then we 'll wed, and then we 'll bed— 56 Henry Carey. MY DEAR AND ONLY LOVE, My dear and only love, I pray Which virtuous souls abhor, And hold a synod in thine heart, I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, My thoughts did evermore disdain He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, 8 1711. Song But 'gainst my batteries if I find Thou kick, or vex me sore, I'll never love thee more. And in the empire of thine heart, If others do pretend a part, Or dare to vie with me, Or if committees thou erect, And go on such a score, I'll laugh and sing at thy neglect, But if thou wilt prove faithful, then, I'll make thee glorious by my pen, I'll serve thee in such noble ways I'll crown and deck thee all with bays, James Graham, Marquess of Montrose. 24 32 40 SONG My silks and fine array, My smiles and languish'd air, By Love are driven away; 1783. Brings me yew to deck my grave: His face is fair as heaven When springing buds unfold: 6 His breast is Love's all-worshipp'd tomb, Where all Love's pilgrims come. Bring me an axe and spade, Bring me a winding-sheet; When I my grave have made, 12 18 William Blake. THE BANKS OF DOON YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon, And I sae fu' o' care! Thou 'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause Luve was true. 8 |