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The Song Book |
101 |
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That fate might bless some Poll or Bess, And that they soon might hail her ; But the standing toast &c.
Some drank our Queen, and some our land—
Our glorious land of freedom ! Some that our tars might never stand
For heroes brave to lead 'em ! That beauty in distress might find,
Such friends as ne'er could fail her; But the standing toast &c.
The Words and Tune by Dibdin. |
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LXXVI
FAIR ROSALIND |
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Wretched, and only wretched, he
To whom that lot shall fall; For, if her heart aright I see,
She means to please them all.
Chappell. From Watt's Musical Miscellany. |
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