  By J.M. Wedderburn, of Newcastle. Set to Music by John Aldridge, Jun. of Newcastle. Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow, Extol each nymph so fair, Be mine my Nanny’s worth to show— Her captivating air. What swain can gaze without delight On beauty there so fine? The Graces all their charms unite In Nanny of the Tyne. Far from the noise of giddy courts The lovely charmer dwells; Her cot the haunt of harmless sports, In virtue she excells. With modesty, good nature join’d, To form the nymph divine; And truth, with innocence combin’d, In Nanny of the Tyne. Flow on, smooth stream, in murmurs sweet Glide gently past her cot; ’Tis peace and virtue’s calm retreat,— Ye great ones envied not. And you, ye fair, whom folly leads Through all her paths supine, Tho’ drest in pleasure’s garb, exceeds Not Nanny of the Tyne. Can art to nature e’er compare, Or win us to believe But that the frippery of the fair Were made but to deceive. Strip from the belle the dress so gay, Which fashion calls divine, Will she such loveliness display As Nanny of the Tyne? |
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