I bid ye all a long adieu,
And fare thee well, my lovely Jean;
Thine equal I shall never view,
Whilst far awa' fra Pandon Dean.
The songsters chanting on the spray,
The shrubs and flowers, sae fresh and green,
Increase my heart's tumultuous play,
Which dwells on thee and Pandon Dean.
Though far awa' in foreign lands,
And trackless oceans foam between,
I ne'er shall break those dearest bands
Thou wreath'dst for me in Pandon Dean.
These to my heart shall dearest be,
When sharp afflictions pierce me keen;
'Twill soothe my woes to think on thee,
Thou fairest flower in Pandon Dean.
If Fortune smile, I'll then return,
To deck my love in silken sheen;
And dwell with her just by the burn
That wimples through the bonny Dean.
THE NEWCASTLE HACKNEYS.
The Londoners long for example we've chose,
And imported each fashion as fast as it 'rose;
But the best hit of all, in our awkward approaches,
Is St. Nicholas' Square, and the new hackney coaches.
The ladies have long had advantage of man,
In that easy conveyance, a walking sedan;
Now the tables are turn'd on the opposite side,
For the ladies must walk while the gentlemen ride.
When our beaux are dress'd out for a rout or a ball,
They've nothing to do but a hackney to call—
Consult not the weather, nor muffle their chins—
No danger of breaking, o'er scrapers, their shins.