It might have been a fancy. THE TICKET

OF

LEAVE MAN.

T. PEARSON, Printer, 4 and 6, Chadderton St, Oldham Road, Manchester,

Written and sung by Fred Laroche, the London Comigue.

ONCE I was honest, and worken at my trade, Which was a shoemaker, and good shoes

I made, 'T i l l once a fine fellow, came snto mo place, And he was the cause of my present disgrace,

And he was a— Ticket of Leave Man. still inclined to thieve Although he was out on a Ticket of Leyve.

He came to my shop and qnckly t'was, He orderəd some boots, and he ordered some

shoes, For a "Twenty Pound note," then, the chauge he

did receive, I was presntly SOLD by a Ticket of leave.

And he was a Ticket, &c.

A week after his note I did cash, I t was forged, and for me was a regtlar smash, They made me an example, and sent me away, And gave me seven years at Botany Bay.

All through this, Ticket, &c.

But every co vict bear this in stght, May he again receive his Fresdom, if he acts

right, And the Government there my story did believe, And I had but one year, and a ticket of leave.

And now I am a Ticket, &c.

Arrived here on shore, I , idleness do shirk, And tried like a man, to look after some work, But all the folks I saw, did the one answer give, We're the Police, your'e a ticket of leave,

And who do you think would employ, A Ticket, &c.

I 'm scorned by rich, I'm scorned by poor, My 'Ticket drives me mad, faom door to door, And now er'e a week or a fortnight is pasaed, They make me a thief and dishonest at last,

And this will he the end of the poor Ticket of leave man, who is not inclied to thieve, Altho' I'm free, with my Ticket of leave.

683

THE ANCHOR'S

WEIGHED. THE tear fell geutly from her eye,

When last we parted on the shore ; My bosom heaved with many a sigh,

To think I ne'er might see her more. Dear youth "she cried" and canst thou haste away

My heart will break,—a little moment stay, Alas ! I cannot, I can ot part from thee ;

The Anchor's weigh'd ; farewell remember me !

" Weep not my maid, I trembling said ; " Doubt not a constant heart llke mine ;

I ne'er can meet another maid. Whose charms can fix that heart like thine.:

Go then "she cried ; but let thy constant mind Oft think of her you leave in tears behind,"

Dear maid, this laat embrace my pledge shall be, The anchor's weighed ; farewell, remember me.

It might have been a fancy.

IT might have been a fancy, Or it might have been a dream,

But I'll ne'er forget the beauty, Of the voice. or of the theme ;

I was sitting at my lattice, One fair night in budding spring,

When a flood of light fell o'er me, And I heard a spirit sing—

Come away ! come away ! To the land of light and beauty,

Come away ! come away ! While the weary zephyrs slumber'd

In the shady summer bow'rs, And the air was lotus-laden.

With the perfumed breath of flowers, While the birds bath'd in the brooklet,

And the tired bee droop'd its wing, Sudden music swept the silence,

And I heard a spirit sing— Come away, &c. True it might have been a fancy,

Or i t might have been a dream, But I'll ne'er forget the beauty,

Of the voice, or of the theme ; And come storm, come strife, come shaddow,

I can conquer while I cling, To the happy mem'ry moments,

When I heard a spirit sing— Come away, &c.