As on the stormy beach I strayed,
Where frowning rocks prevailed,
O! thus my own, my dearest maid,
My hard, hard fate bewailed: --
"O! Harry, dear, you'll break your neck --
Upon my soul you will;
And if you do, you precious fool,
I'll lick you -- so I will!"
Source: Table Rock Album and Sketches of the Falls and Scenery
Adjacent. Buffalo: Steam Press of Thomas and Lathrops, copyright by Jewett, Thomas
& Co.,1856c.1848
