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But we'll make their ears ring, in defence of our King,
our country, and Abraham Newland.
O, Abraham Newland !
Excellent Abraham Newland!
No tri-colour'd elf, nor the devil himſelf,
ſhall rub us of Abraham Newland.
The Maid in Bedlam.
ONE morning very early;
one morning in the ſpring,
I heard a maid in Bedlam,
who mournfully did ſing;
Her chains ſhe rattled in her hands
while ſweetly thus ſung ſhe,
I love my love, becauſe I know
my love loves me.
Oh! cruel were his parents,
who ſent my love to ſea;
And cruel, cruel was the ſhip,
that bore my love from me:
Yet I love his parents ſince they're his,
altho' they've ruin'd me;
And I love my love, becauſe I know
my love loves me.
C3
