married were this loving pair,And joined in holy band,
No more they go a seeking sheep,
Together hand in hand.
Around her feet play children sweet,
Beneath the summer sky,
And 'tis down in yonder valley, love,
Where the water glideth by.
No 12 THE MILLER AND HIS SONS
C.J.S.
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1
There was a miller, as you shall hear,
Long time he lived in Devonshire,
He was took sick and deadly ill,
And had no time to write his will!
He was took sick and deadly ill,
And had no time to write his will.
2
So he call'd up his eldest son,
Said he, "My glass is almost run.
If I to thee my mill shall give,
Tell me what toll thou'lt take to live?"
3
"Father," said he, "My name is Jack,
From every bushel I'll take a peck.
From every grist that I do grind,
That I may thus good living find."
4
"Thou art a fool," the old man said,
"Thou hast not half acquired thy trade.
My mill to thee I ne'er will give
For by such toll no man can live."
5
Then he call'd up his second son,
Said he, "My glass is almost run.
If I to thee my mill shall make,
Tell me what toll to live thou'lt take?"
6
"Father you know my name is Ralph,
From every bushel I'll take a half
From every grist that I do grind,
That I may thus a living find."
7
"Thou art a fool," the old man said;
"Thou hast not half acquired thy trade.
My mill to thee I will not give,
For by such toll no man may live."
8
Then he call'd up his youngest son,
Says he, "My glass is almost run.
If I to thee my mill shall make
Tell me what toll, to live, thou'lt take?"
9
"Father I am your youngest boy.
In taking toll is all my joy.
Before I would good living lack,
I'd take the whole—forswear the sack."
10
"Thou art the boy," the old man said,
"For thou hast full acquired the trade.
The mill is thine," the old man cried,
He laugh'd, gave up the ghost, and died.
No 13 ORMOND THE BRAVE
C.J.S.
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1
I am Ormond the brave, did ye never hear of me?
Who lately was driven from my own country.
They tried me, condemned me, they plundered my estate,
For being so loyal to Queen Anne the Great,
Crying, O! I am Ormond, you know.
2
O to vict'ry I led, and I vanquished every foe,
Some do call me James Butler, I'm Ormond, you know,
I am Queen Anne's darling, and old England's delight,
A friend to the Church, in Fanatic's despite,
Crying, O! I am Ormond, you know.
3
Then awake Devon dogs, and arise you Cornish cats,
And follow me a chasing the Hanoverian rats,
They shall fly from the country, we'll guard the British throne,
Have no German electors with a king, sirs, of our own.
Crying, O! I am Ormond, you know.
4
O I wronged not my country as Scottish peers do,
Nor my soldiers defrauded, of that which is their due.
All such deeds I do abhor, by the powers that are above,
I've bequeath'd all my fortune to the country I love.
Crying, O! I am Ormond, you know.
No 14 SIR JOHN
