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IF I had all the diamonds
that grows in yonder hill,
would them to my laddie,
if he would for me feel.
If I had a tongue to prattle,
I would tell my love fine tales,
to the bonny weaver laddie,
my mind I would reveal.
Now ſince my love is from me gone
his face I'll never ſee,
He's left me here behind him
in woe and miſery.
But I hope he will return
ſafe back to me again;
That bonny weaver laddie
that's won this heart of mine.
THE SECOND OF AUGUST.
On the ſecond day of auguſt,
Eighteen hundred and one,
As we ſailed with Lord Nelſon,
to the ports of Toulon
For to cut out ſome ſhipping,
which proved all in vain;
But to our miſfortune
they were all moor'd by chain.
