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SALLY IN OUR ALLEY

Of all the girls that are so smart
There's none like pretty Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.
There is no lady in the land

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
So sweet a girl as Sally!

She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When she is by, I leave my work,
I love her so sincerely;
My master comes, like any Turk,
And bangs me most severely:
But let him bang his bellyful,

I'll bear it all for Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

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Sally in Our Alley

Of all the days that 's in the week
I dearly love but one day—

And that's the day that comes betwixt
A Saturday and Monday;

For then I'm drest, all in my best,
To walk abroad with Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church,
And often am I blamèd
Because I leave him in the lurch
As soon as text is namèd;
I leave the church in sermon-time
And slink away to Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When Christmas comes about again,
O, then I shall have money;

I'll hoard it up, and box it all,

I'll give it to my honey:

I would it were ten thousand pound,
I'd give it all to Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

My master and the neighbours all
Make game of me and Sally,
And, but for her, I 'd better be
A slave and row a galley;

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1729?

But when my seven long years are out,
O, then I'll marry Sally;

O, then we 'll wed, and then we 'll bed—
But not in our alley!

56

Henry Carey.

MY DEAR AND ONLY LOVE,
I PRAY

My dear and only love, I pray
That little world, of thee,
Be governed by no other sway
Than purest monarchy.
For if confusion have a part,

Which virtuous souls abhor,

And hold a synod in thine heart,

I'll never love thee more.

As Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone;

My thoughts did evermore disdain
A rival on my throne:

He either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,

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1711.

Song

But 'gainst my batteries if I find

Thou kick, or vex me sore,
As that thou set me up a blind,

I'll never love thee more.

And in the empire of thine heart,
Where I should solely be,

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,
And never love thee more.

But if thou wilt prove faithful, then,
And constant of thy word,

I'll make thee glorious by my pen,
And famous by my sword;

I'll serve thee in such noble ways
Was never heard before,

I'll crown and deck thee all with bays,
And love thee more and more.

James Graham, Marquess of Montrose.

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SONG

My silks and fine array,

My smiles and languish'd air,

By Love are driven away;
And mournful lean Despair

1783.

Brings me yew to deck my grave:
Such end true lovers have.

His face is fair as heaven

When springing buds unfold:
O why to him was 't given,
Whose heart is wintry cold?

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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,
Let winds and tempests beat:
Then down I'll lie, as cold as clay:
True love doth pass away!

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William Blake.

THE BANKS OF DOON

YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,

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.

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