The Tippling Farmer (2)/When Late I Wander'd
When Late I wander’d.
When late I wander’d o’er the plain,
(illegible text) nymph to nymph I strove in vain;
(illegible text)y wild desires to rally, to rally,
My wild desires to ral—ly:
But now they’re of themselves come home,
And strange! no longer wish to roam,
They centre all in Sally, in Sally,
They centre all in Sally.
(illegible text) nymph to nymph I strove in vain;
(illegible text)y wild desires to rally, to rally,
My wild desires to ral—ly:
But now they’re of themselves come home,
And strange! no longer wish to roam,
They centre all in Sally, in Sally,
They centre all in Sally.
Yet she, unkind one, damps my joy,
And cries, I court but to destroy,
Can love with ruin tally, ruin tally,
My wild desires to ral—ly:
By those dear lips, those eyes, I swear,
I would all deaths all torments bear,
Rather than injure Sally, injure Sally,
Rather than injure Sally,
And cries, I court but to destroy,
Can love with ruin tally, ruin tally,
My wild desires to ral—ly:
By those dear lips, those eyes, I swear,
I would all deaths all torments bear,
Rather than injure Sally, injure Sally,
Rather than injure Sally,
Come then, Oh come, thou sweeter far
Than violets and roses are,
Or lillies of the valley, of the valley,
Or lillies of the val—ley,
O follow love, and quit your fear,
He’ll guide you to these arms my dear,
And make me blest in Sally, in Sally,
And make me blest in Sal—ly.
Than violets and roses are,
Or lillies of the valley, of the valley,
Or lillies of the val—ley,
O follow love, and quit your fear,
He’ll guide you to these arms my dear,
And make me blest in Sally, in Sally,
And make me blest in Sal—ly.
FINIS.