Page 374 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...
P. 374

Quick,  call  yc  gray-haired  friar  in
                                          From  out his  gioomy  cell,
                                     To tie these  two  young  true-loves  tight!
                                          Ring out,  yc  marriage bell t
                                     Ring " jingle-jatigle  jangle jing !”
                                          Ring  “   fol-de-riddle-lay ! "
                                     Bold  Sam-u-el  has won  his bride
                                          For ever  and  a day!
                                     Go, bid ye foolish  father
                                          To  Ibrget his angry pride,
                                     Accept  his  new-made son-in-law,
                                          And bless  ye  bonnie bride.
                                                                               J a c k   B f k .-v f t -i




                                                 THE  SO FI'  GUITAR.

                               SCK N E:       B csentLi  th e-U u ty'i  w in d o w   Eippen reLhllic lo v e r -wUii  g u ita r.
                        i,£,ocate  llie  lady’s window  to the light.  When  situ  replies  let  lu;r  fipaak toward
                                                         the  left.]
                                   O     The earth  lies  calm  in  the  fair  moonlight;
                                       FEN thy lattice,  (!)  lady bright!

                                          Gaze on the  glint  of  each  glancing  star,
                                          And list to the  notes  of  my soft  guitar.

                                   At the lady's window a vision shone—
                                   'Twas the lady’s head with  a night-cap  on.


                                   See!  at the casement  appearing now,
                                   With lily fingers  she hides  her brow.
                                   Ohr weep  not—though bitter thy  sorrows  are,
                                   I  will  soothe  them  to  rest  with  my  soft  guitar.

                                   Then  the  lady answered, “ Who's  going to  weep?
                                   Go Svay with your  fiddle,  and  let me sleep”
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