Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (3rd ed.).djvu/158



first throb of love this fond heart ever knew,
 * Was implanted, dear Mary, by thee;

And time serves to shew me how lasting and true
 * That first love, dear Mary, shall be.

Tho' distance may part us, thy memory still
 * I'll treasure, as miser his gold;

Nor e'er for a moment forget thee, until
 * This now beating heart shall be cold.

Whatever awaits me, through life's changing scene,
 * Wherever on earth I may range,

My constant companion throughout will have been
 * A feeling that never could change.

And so will I love thee, unalter'd, till death
 * Shall bid me the passion resign;

One name, fondly whisper'd, shall claim my last breath,
 * And, Mary, that name shall be !

A is a living syringe, filled with dirty water, with which he ever and anon doth defile his betters.

A should never think once ere he performs a good action; but a thousand times before he does a bad one!