The following rhymes, slight and insignificant as they may now seem, had once a more powerful effect than either the Philippics of Demosthenes, or Cicero ; and contributed not a little towards the great revolution in 1688. Let us hear a contemporary writer.

A foolish ballad was made at that time, treating the Papists, and chiefly the Irish, in a very ridiculous manner, which had a burden said to be Irish words, 'Lero, lero, lilliburlero,' that made an impression on the [king's] army, that cannot be imagined by those that saw it not. The whole army, and at last the people, both in city and country, were singing it perpetually. And perhaps never had so slight a thing so great an effect."-Burnet.

It was written, or at least republished, on the Earl of Tyrconnel's going a second time to Ireland in October 1688. Perhaps it is unnecessary to mention, that General Richard Talbot, newly created Earl of Tyrconnel, had been nominated by King James II. to the lieutenancy of Ireland in 1686, on account of his being a furious papist, who had recommended himself to his bigoted master by his arbitrary treatment of the protestants in the preceding year, when only lieutenant general, and

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Lilli, &c.

Ireland shall be rul'd by an ass and a dog." 45 Lilli, &c.

For Talbot's de dog, and Ja** is de ass.
Lilli, &c.

The foregoing song is attributed to Lord Wharton in a small pamphlet, intitled, "A true relation of the several facts and circumstances of the intended riot and tumult on Queen Elizabeth's birthday, &c." third edition, London, 1712, price 2d.See p. 5, viz. A late Viceroy [of Ireland,] who has so often boasted himself upon his talent for mischief, invention, lying, and for making a certain Lillibur. lero Song; with which, if you will believe himself he sung a deluded prince out of three kingdoms."

was written by William Hamilton, of Bangour, Esq. who died March 25, 1754, aged 50. It is printed from an elegant edition of his Poems, published at Edinburgh, 1760, 12mo. This song was written in imitation of an old Scottish Ballad on a similar subject, with the same burden to each stanza. A. Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bride, Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow, Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bride, And think nae mair on the Braes of Yarrow.

B. Where gat ye that bonny bonny bride?
Where gat ye that winsome marrow?
4. I gat her where I dare na weil be seen,
Puing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow.
Weep not, weep not, my bonny bonny bride,
Weep not, weep not, my winsome marrow;
Nor let thy heart lament to leive,

Puing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow.

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For she has tint her luver, luver dear,
Her luver dear, the cause of sorrow;
And I hae slain the comliest swain,

That eir pu'd hirks on the Braes of Yarrow.

Why rins thy stream, O Yarrow, Yarrow, reid? 25
Why on thy braes heard the voice of sorrow?
And why yon melancholious weids

Hung on the bonny birks of Yarrow?

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Upon the duleful Braes of Yarrow.

Wash, O wash his wounds, his wounds in tears,
His wounds in tears with dule and sorrow;

And wrap his limbs in mourning weids,
And lay him on the Braes of Yarrow.

Then build, then build, ye sisters, sisters sad, Ye sisters sad, his tomb with sorrow;

And weep around in waeful wise

His hapless fate on the Braes of Yarrow.

Curse ye, curse ye, his useless, useless shield,
My arm that wrought the deed of sorrow,
The fatal spear that pierc'd his breast,
His comely breast on the Braes of Yarrow.

Ver. 43, What follows is not in me copies.

B. Why does she weep, thy bonny bonny bride? Why does she weep thy winsome marrow?

-was a Party Song written by the ingenious author of "Leonidas", on the taking of Porto Bello from the Spaniards by Admiral Vernon, Nov. 22, 1739.-The case of Hosier, which is here so pathetically represented, was briefly this. In April 1726, that commander was sent with a strong fleet into the Spanish West-Indies, to block up the galleons in the ports of that country, or, should they presume to come out, to seize and carry them into England: he

An ingenious correspondent informs the Editor, that this Balled hath been also attributed to the late Lord Bath.

accordingly arrived at the Bastimentos near Porto Bello, but being employed rather to overawe than to attack the Spaniards, with whom it was probably not our interest to go to war, he continued long inactive on that station, to his own great regret. He afterwards removed to Carthagena, and remained cruizing in these seas, till far the greater part of his men perished deplorably by the diseases of that unhealthy climate. This brave man, seeing his best officers and men thus daily swept away, his ships exposed to inevitable destruction, and himself made the sport of the enemy, is said to have died of a

I, by twenty sail attended,
Did this Spanish town affright:
Nothing then its wealth defended

But my orders not to fight.
Oh! that in this rolling ocean

I had cast them with disdain, And obey'd my heart's warm motion To have quell'd the pride of Spain !

For resistance I could fear none,

But with twenty ships had done What thou, brave and happy Vernon, Hast atchiev'd with six alone. Then the bastimentos never

Had our foul dishonour seen,

Nor the sea the sad receiver

Of this gallant train had been.

Thus, like thee, proud Spain dismaying,
And her galleons leading home,
Though condemn'd for disobeying,

I had met a traitor's doom,
To have fallen, my country crying
He has play'd an English part,
Had been better far than dying
Of a griev'd and broken heart.

Unrepining at thy glory,

Thy successful arms we hail; But remember our sad story,

And let Hosier's wrongs prevail. Sent in this foul clime to languish,

Think what thousands fell in vain, Wasted with disease and anguish, Not in glorious battle slain.

Hence with all my train attending
From their oozy tombs below,
Thro' the hoary foam ascending,

Here I feed my constant woe:
Here the bastimentos viewing,
We recal our shameful doom,
And our plaintive cries renewing,
Wander thro' the midnight gloom.

O'er these waves for ever mourning
Shall we roam depriv'd of rest,
If to Britain's shores returning
You neglect my just request;
After this proud foe subduing,

When your patriot friends you see,
Think on vengeance for my ruin,
And for England sham'd in me.

James Dawson was one of the Manchester rebels, who was hanged, drawn, and quartered, on Kennington-common, in the county of Surrey, July 30, 1746. This ballad is founded on a remarkable fact, which was reported to have happened at his execution. It was written by the late William Shenstone, Esq. soon after the event, and has been printed amongst his posthumous works, 2 vols. 8vo. It is here given from a MS. which contained some small variations from that printed copy.

COME listen to my mournful tale,

Ye tender hearts, and lovers dear;
Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh,
Nor will you blush to shed a tear.

And thou, dear Kitty, peerless maid,
Do thou a pensive ear incline;
For thou canst weep at every woe,
And pity every plaint, but mine.

Young Dawson was a gallant youth,
A brighter never trod the plain;
And well he lov'd one charming maid,
And dearly was he lov'd again.

One tender maid she lov'd him dear,
Of gentle blood the damsel came,
And faultless was her beauteous form,
And spotless was her virgin fame.

But curse on party's hateful strife,
That led the faithful youth astray
The day the rebel clans appear'd:
O had he never seen that day!

Their colours and their sash he wore,

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And in the fatal dress was found;

So pale, nor yet so chill appear.

With faltering voice she weeping said, Oh, Dawson, monarch of my heart, Think not thy death shall end our loves, For thou and I will never part.

Yet might sweet mercy find a place, And bring relief to Jemmy's woes, O George, without a prayer for thee My orisons should never close.

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