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Approve what one of us presents to-night,
Or every mortal woman here shall write:
Rural, pathetic, narrative, sublime,

We'll write to you, and make you write in rhyme;
Female remarks shall take up all your time.
Your time, poor souls! we'll take your very money
Female third days shall come so thick upon ye,
As long as we have eyes, or hands, or breath,
We'll look, or write, or talk you all to death,
Unless you yield for better and for worse;
Then the she-Pegasus shall gain the course;
And the grey mare will prove the better horse.

SONGS AND BALLADS.

THE

THIEF AND CORDELIER.

A BALLAD.

To the tune of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury. WHO has e'er been at Paris must needs know the The fatal retreat of the unfortunate brave, [Greve, Where honour and justice most oddly contribute To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet. Derry down, down, hey derry down.

put on,

There death breaks the shackles which force had [begun ; And the hangman completes what the judge but There the' Squire of the Pad and the Knight of the [more crost. Find their pains no more balk'd, and their hopes no Derry down, &c.

Post.

Great claims there are made, and great secrets are

known,

[own ;

And the king, and the law, and the thief has his But my hearers cry out, 'What a deuce dost thou Cut off thy reflections, and give us thy tale.' [ail? Derry down, &c.

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'Twas there then, in civil respect to harsh laws, And for want of false witness to back a bad cause, A Norman, though late, was oblig❜d to appear, And who to assist, but a grave Cordelier?

Derry down, &c.

The 'Squire, whose good grace was to open the scene
Seem'd not in great haste that the show should begin,
Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart,
And often took leave, but was loth to depart.

Derry down, &c.

• What frightens you thus, my good son? (says the

priest)

You murder'd, are sorry, and have been confess'd.' O Father! my sorrow will scarce save my bacon, For 'twas not that I murder'd, but that I was taken.' Derry down, &c.

'Pugh! pr'ythee ne'er trouble thy head with such fancies;

Rely on the aid you shall have from Saint Francis ; If the money you promis'd be brought to the chest, You have only to die; let the Church do the rest. Derry down, &c.

And what will folks say if they see you afraid? It reflects upon me as I knew not my trade: Courage, friend, for to-day is your period of sorrow, And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow.' Derry down, &c.

To-morrow! (our hero replied, in a fright,) He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of

to-night.'

[truss'd up, Tell your beads, (quoth the priest) and be fairly For you surely to-night shall in Paradise sup.'

Derry down, &c.

'Alas! quoth the 'Squire, howe'er sumptuous the

treat,

Parbleu, I shall have little stomach to eat;

I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace, Would you be so kind as to go in my place.'

Derry down, &c.

That I would (quoth the Father) and thank you to boot,

But our actions, you know, with our duty must suit: The feast I propos'd to you I cannot taste,

For this night, by our Order, is mark'd for a fast.'
Derry down, &c.

Then turning about to the hangman, he said,
'Dispatch me, I pr'ythee, this troublesome blade;
For thy cord and my cord both equally tie,
And we live by the gold for which other men die.'
Derry down, &c.

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