BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS.

When‘ Omer smote‘ is bloomin’ lyre,

He'd‘ eard men sing by land an’ sea;

An’ what he thought‘ e might require,

‘ E went an’ took — the same as me!

The market-girls an’ fishermen,

The shepherds an’ the sailors, too,

They‘ eard old songs turn up again,

But kep’ it quiet — same as you!

They knew‘ e stole;‘ e knew they knowed.

They did n't tell, nor make a fuss,

But winked at‘ Omer down the road,

An’‘ e winked back — the same as us!