Air—"il y avait un petit navire.” There were three sailors of Brist… Who took a boat and went to sea. But first with beef and captain’s… And pickled pork they loaded she.

Come all ye Christian people, and… It is all about a doctor was trave… By the Heastern Counties’ Railwa… From Ixworth town in Suffolk, vic… A travelling from Bury this Docto…

A street there is in Paris famous… For which no rhyme our language yi… Rue Neuve de petits Champs its na… The New Street of the Little Fie… And there’s an inn, not rich and s…

There was a king in Brentford,—of… But who, without his glory,—could… His Polly’s cotton nightcap,—it w… He slept of evenings early,—and ro… All in a fine mud palace,—each day…

For the sole edification Of this decent congregation, Goodly people, by your grant I will sing a holy chant— I will sing a holy chant.

Riding from Coleraine (Famed for lovely Kitty), Came a Cockney bound Unto Derry city; Weary was his soul,

“Coming from a gloomy court, Place of Israelite resort, This old lamp I’ve brought with m… Madam, on its panes you’ll see The initials K and E.”

Dear Lucy, you know what my wish… I hate all your Frenchified fuss: Your silly entrées and made dishes Were never intended for us. No footman in lace and in ruffles

WERTHER had a love for Charlot… Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met he… She was cutting bread and butter. Charlotte was a married lady,

The night was stormy and dark, The town was shut up in sleep: Only those were abroad who were ou… Or those who’d no beds to keep. I pass’d through the lonely street…

As I think of the insult that’s d… Red tears of rivinge from me fatur… And uphold in this pome, to the wo… The sleeves that appointed PRO… I look round me counthree, renowne…

The noble King of Brentford Was old and very sick, He summon’d his physicians To wait upon him quick; They stepp’d into their coaches

Ye pathrons of janius, Minerva an… Who sit on Parnassus, that mounta… Descind from your station and make… Of the Prince’s pavilion in sweet… This garden, by jakurs, is forty p…

Beside the old hall-fire—upon my n… Of happy fairy days—what tales wer… I thought the world was once—all p… And my heart would beat to hear—th… And many a quiet night,—in slumber…

O SIGNOR BRODERIP, you are… You wexis us little horgin-boys wh… How dare you talk of Justice, and… To pussicute us horgin-boys, you s… Though you set in Vestminster sur…