Page:Seven popular songs (1).pdf/6

6 But as the arm in power grew more and more, Bricks, mortar and wood, soon strew’d the floor. Ri too ral, &c.

With eagerness he stepp’d each stair, Popp’d into the room—his wife was there ; O, come to my arms, he said my dear, When his steamer smash’d the crockery ware. Ri too ral, &c.

He left his house, at length outright, And wanders now just like a sprite ; For he can’t get sleep either day or night, For his arms keep moving with two horse might, Ri too ral, &c.





Begone, dull care! I pray thee begone from me Begone, dull care! thou and I can never agree, Long time hast thou been tarrying here, And fain thou wouldst me kill; But, in sooth ! dull care, Thou never shalt have thy will.

Too much care will make a young man grey ; And too much care will turn an old mail to clay. My wife shall dance, and I shall sing, So merrily pass the day ; For I hold it one of the wisest things, To drive dull care away.

