Chapter M (1)

Marlborough's _a brave Commander,_ 9
_My dear_ Corinna _give me leave,_ 81
_May her blest Example chace,_ 97
_My Dear and only Love,_ 122
_My Nose is the largest of all,_ 131
_My Nose is the Flattest of all,_ 132
_Mortals learn your Lives to,_ 161
Mirtillo, _whilst you patch,_ 169
_My Friend thy Beauty,_ 294
_Must Love, that Tyrant of the,_ 315
_My_ Theodora _can those Eyes,_ 337

N

_Now dry up thy Tears,_ 40
_No, no, poor suffering Heart,_ 90
_New Pyramid's raise,_ 99
_Never sigh, but think of kissing,_ 103
_Now, now the Queen's Health,_ 116
_Noble King_ Lud, 134
_Now I'm resolv'd to Love no more,_ 312
_Not your Eyes_ Melania _move me,_ 322
_Now, now the Night's come,_ 349
_Now_ Jockey _and_ Moggy _are ready,_ 350

O

_Oh! my Panting, panting Heart,_ 25
_Over the Mountains,_ 86
_Oh how Happy's he, who from,_ 105
_Oh! the mighty pow'r of Love,_ 162
_Oh the Charming Month of_ May, 344
_Oh_ Roger _I've been to see_ Eugene, 346
_Of all the handsome Ladies,_ 348

P

Phillis _lay aside your Thinking,_ 107
_Pish fye, you're rude Sir,_ 108
Phillis, _I can ne'er forgive it,_ 187
_Poor_ Sawney _had marry'd a Wife,_ 268

R

_Room for Gentlemen,_ 136
_Retire old Miser,_ 209
_Richest Gift of lavish Nature,_ 264

S

_She met with a Country-man,_ 31
_Stand, clear, my Masters,_ 62
_Sometimes I am a Tapster new,_ 91
_She went Apparell'd neat and fine,_ 95
_Say cruel_ Amoret, _how long,_ 112
_Such command o'er my Fate,_ 113
_Sit you merry Gallants,_ 145
_Since_ Phillis _swears Inconstancy,_ 194
_Some in the Town go betimes,_ 197
_Suppose a Man does all he can,_ 210
Sors sine visu, 244
_See bleeding at your Feet,_ 311
_Since_ Tom's _in the Chair, and every one here,_ 340
_Such a happy, happy, Life,_ 362

T

_To meet her_ Mars _the Queen of Love,_ 19
_Thus_ Damon _knock'd at _CÊlia's _Door,_ 37
_The World is a Bubble and full of,_ 38
_Through the cold shady Woods,_ 44
_The gordian Knot,_ 88
_There Dwelt a Widow in this Town,_ 93
_There was an Old Man,_ 100
_There is a Thing which in the light,_ 106
_There's not a Swain,_ 110
_Tormenting Beauty leave my Breast,_ 111
_Tell me why so long,_ 114
_'Tis a foolish mistake,_ 115
_Tell me, tell me, charming,_ 128
_Tho' thou'rt ugly and Old,_ 143
_Tho' you make no return,_ 149
_The King is gone to_ Oxon _Town,_ 158
_Tho' I love and she knows it,_ 167
_There was three Travellers,_ 177
Troy _had a breed of brave,_ 218
_There's none so Pretty,_ 222
_The Ordinance a-board,_ 250
_That scornful_ Sylvia's _Chains,_ 260
Tom _Tinker's my true love,_ 265
_To you Fair Ladies now at Land,_ 272
_Then come kind_ Damon _come,_ 323
_The Night is come that will,_ 330
_There's a new set of Rakes,_ 330
_Tho' Begging is an Honest Trade,_ 338
_The Rosey Morn lukes blith and Gay,_ 360
_The Restauration now's the Word,_ 361

U

_Underneath the Castle Wall,_ 120
_Unguarded lies the wishing Maid,_ 129
Vobis magnis parvis dicam, 234

W

_Whilst_ Phillis _is Drinking,_ 13
_War, War and Battle now no more,_ 15
_What shall I do, I am undone,_ 121
_When Wit and Beauty,_ 151
_When_ Sylvia _was kind,_ 153
_What, Love a crime,_ 154
_When I have often heard young Maids,_ 156
_What state of Life can be,_ 163
_When_ Jockey _first I saw,_ 165
_When_ Dido _was a_ Carthage _Queen,_ 192
_We merry Wives of_ Windsor, 211
_Wo'as me poor Lass! what mun,_ 263
_When on her Eyes,_ 267
_With sighing and wishing,_ 271
_What sayest thou,_ 287
_What shall I do, I've lost my Heart,_ 299
_When I was in the low Country,_ 300
_Walk up to Virtue Strait,_ 301
_When first I lay'd Siege to my_ Chloris, 308
_Why alas do you now leave me,_ 309
_When Beauty such as yours,_ 310
_When crafty Fowlers would,_ 313
_Who can_ Dorinda's _Beauty view,_ 326
_When embracing my Friends,_ 354
_Why will_ Clemene _when I gaze,_ 372

Y

_Ye Commons and Peers,_ 1
_You guess by my wither'd Face,_ 172
_You Friends to Reformation,_ 215
_Young_ Strephon _and_ Phillis, 220
_Young_ Strephon _he has Woo'd_ 241
_You Ladies draw near,_ 329
_You tell me_ Dick _you've lately,_ 331
_Your Melancholy's all a Folly,_ 334

Z

_Z--ds Madam return me my Heart,_ 147

PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY.

VOL. VI.

_A_ BALLAD _on the Battle of_ AUDENARD. _Set by Mr._ LEVERIDGE.

[Music]

Ye Commons and Peers,
Pray lend me your Ears,
I'll Sing you a Song if I can;
How _Lewis le Grand_,
Was put to a Stand,
By the Arms of our Gracious Queen ANN.

How his Army so great,
Had a total Defeat,
Not far from the River of _Dender_;
Where his Grand-Children twain,
For fear of being slain,
Gallop'd off with the Popish Pretender.

To a Steeple on High,
The Battle to Spy,
Up Mounted these clever young Men;
And when from the Spire
They saw so much Fire,
They cleverly came down again.

Then a Horse-back they got,
All upon the same spot,
By advice of their Cousin _Vendosme_;
O Lord! cry'd out he
Unto young _Burgundy_,
Wou'd your Brother and you were at Home.

Just so did he say
When without more delay,
Away the young Gentry fled;
Whose Heels for that Work
Were much lighter than Cork,
But their Hearts were more heavy than Lead.

Not so did behave
The young _Hannover_ brave
In this bloody Field I assure ye;
When his War-Horse was shot,
Yet he matter'd it not,
But charg'd still on Foot like a Fury.

When Death flew about
Aloud he call'd out,
Ho! you Chevalier of St. GEORGE;
If you'll never stand
By Sea nor by Land,
Pretender, that Title you forge.

Thus boldly he stood,
As became that high Blood,
Which runs in his Veins so blue;
This Gallant young Man
Being kin to Queen ANN,
Fought as were she a Man, she wou'd do.

What a Racket was here,
(I think 'twas last Year)
For a little ill Fortune in _Spain_;
When by letting 'em Win,
We have drawn the Putts in
To lose all they are worth this Campaign.

Tho' _Bruges_ and _Ghent_,
To the Monsieur we lent,
With Interest he soon shall repay 'em;
While _Paris_ may Sing,
With her sorrowful King
_De Profundis_, instead of _Te Deum_.

From their Dream of Success,
They'll awaken we guess
At the sound of Great _Marlborough's_ Drums;
They may think if they will
Of _Almanza_ still,
But 'tis _Blenheim_ wherever he comes.

O _Lewis_ perplex'd,
What General's next?
Thou hast hitherto chang'd 'em in vain;
He has beat 'em all round,
If no new ones are found,
He shall Beat the old over again.

We'll let _Tallard_ out
If he'll take t'other bout;
And much he's improv'd let me tell ye,
With _Nottingham_ Ale,
At every Meal,
And good Pudding and Beef in his Belly.

As Losers at Play,
Their Dice throw away,
While the Winner he still Wins on;
Let who will Command,
Thou hadst better Disband,
For Old Bully thy Doctors are gone.

A Happy Memorable BALLAD, _On the Fight near_ Audenard, _between the Duke of_ Marlborough, _of_ Great-Britain; _and the Duke of_ Vendosme, _of_ France. _As also the strange and wonderful Manner how the Princes of the Blood Royal of_ France, _were found in a Wood. In allusion to the_ Unhappy Memorable SONG _commonly call'd_ CHEVY-CHACE.

[Music]

God Prosper long our Gracious Queen,
Our Lives and Safeties all:
A woful Fight of late their did
Near _Audenard_ befal.

To drive the _French_ with Sword and Gun,
Brave _Marlborough_ took his Way;
Ah! woe the Time that _France_ beheld
The Fighting of that Day.

The Valiant Duke to Heaven had swore,
_Vendosme_ shou'd pay full dear,
For _Ghent_ and _Bruges_, e'er his Fame
Should reach his Master's Ear.

And now with Eighty Thousand bold,
And chosen Men of Might;
He with the _French_ began to wage
A sharp and bloody Fight.

The Gallant _Britains_ swiftly ran,
The _French_ away to Chase;
On _Wednesday_ they began to fight,
When Day-light did decrease.

And long before high-Night, they had
Ten Thousand _Frenchmen_ slain;
And all the Rivers Crimson flow'd,
As they were dy'd in grain.

The _Britains_ thro' the Woods pursu'd,
The nimble _French_ to take;
And with their Cries the Hills and Dales,
And every Tree did shake.

The Duke then to the Wood did come,
In hopes _Vendosme_ to meet;
When lo! the Prince of _Carignan_
Fell at his Grace's Feet.

Oh! Gentle Duke forbear, forbear,
Into that Wood to shoot;
If ever pity mov'd your Grace,
But turn your Eyes and look:

See where the Royal Line of _France_,
Great _Lewis's_ Heirs do lie;
And sure a Sight more pitious was
Ne'er seen by Mortal Eye.

What Heart of Flint but must relent,
Like Wax before the Sun:
To see their Glory at an end,
E'er yet it was begun.

Whenas our General found your Grace,
Wou'd needs begin to Fight:
As thinking it wou'd please the Boys,
To see so fine a Sight.

He straightway sent them to the Top
Of yonder Church's Spire;
Where they might see, and yet be safe
From Swords and Guns, and Fire.

But first he took them by the Hand,
And kiss'd them e'er they went;
Whilst Tears stood in their little Eyes,
As if they knew th' Event.

Then said, he would with Speed return,
Soon as the Fight was done;
But when he saw his Men give Ground,
Away he basely run,

And left these Children all alone,
As Babes wanting Relief;
And long they wandred up and down,
No Hopes to chear their Grief.

Thus Hand in Hand they walk'd, 'till
At last this Wood they spy'd;
And when they saw the Night grow dark,
They here lay down and cry'd.

At this the Duke was inly mov'd,
His Breast soft Pity beat;
And so he straightway ordered
His Men for to Retreat.

And now, but that my Pen is blunt,
I might with ease relate;
How Fifteen Thousand _French_ were took,
Besides what found their Fate.

Nor should the Prince of _Hannover_
In silence be forgot;
Who like a Lyon fought on Foot,
After his Horse was shot.

And what strange Chance likewise befel,
Unto these Children dear:
But that your Patience is too much
Already tir'd, I fear.

And so God Bless the Queen and Duke,
And send a lasting Peace:
That Wars and foul Debate henceforth
In all the World may cease.

_The Duke of_ Marlborough's _Health. Set by Mr._ R. COX.

[Music]

Come, here's a good Health, the Duke I do mean,
That bravely Fought, that bravely Fought for his Nation and Queen,
May his Fate still be,
That Conquer shall he
Till the Nation with Peace it be Crown'd;
Come Lads never think,
But his Health let's Drink,
And Sing his Great Praise, and Sing his Great Praise
whilst Bumpers pass Round.

_The Duke of_ Marlborough's _HEALTH._

[Music]

_Marlborough's_ a brave Commander,
He Conducts us into the Field;
As bold as _Alexander_,
He'll Dye before he'll yield:

Sound the Trumpet Sound, Boys,
Let each Man stand his Ground, Boys;
Ne'er let us flinch, nor give back an Inch,
And so let his Health go round, Boys.

_A_ SONG.

_Set by Mr._ JOHN ECCLES, _and Sung by Mr._ GOUGE, _in the Farce call'd_, Women will have their Wills.

[Music]

_Belinda's_ pretty, pretty, pleasing Form,
Does my happy, happy, happy, happy Fancy charm:
Her prittle-prattle, tittle-tattle's all engaging, most obliging;
Whilst I'm pressing, clasping, kissing,
Oh! oh! how she does my Soul alarm:
There is such Magick in her Eyes,
Such Magick in her Eyes, in her Eyes,
Does my wond'ring Heart Surprise:
Her prinking, nimping, twinking, pinking,
Whilst I'm courting, for transporting,
How like an Angel, She panting lies, She panting lies.

_A_ SONG _on a Ladies Drinking._

[Music]

Whilst _Phillis_ is Drinking, Love and Wine in alliance,
With Forces United, bids resistless defiance;
Each touch of her Lip, makes Wine sparkle Higher,
And her Eyes by her Drinking, redouble the Fire:
Her Cheeks grow the brighter, recruiting their Colour,
As Flowers by sprinkling revive with fresh Odour;
Each Dart dipt in Wine, Love wounds beyond curing,
And the Liquor like Oil makes the flame more enduring.

_The first_ SONG, _Sung by Mr._ PRINCE, _in the_ Maid in the Mill.

[Music]

How long, how long shall I pine for Love?
How long shall I sue in vain?
How long, how long like the Turtle Dove,
Must I heavily thus complain?
Shall the Sails of my Love stand still,
Shall the grist of my Hopes be unground?
Oh fye, oh fye, oh fye, oh fye let the Mill,
Let the Mill go round, let the Mill, let the Mill go round.

_A_ SONG _Sung at_ HOLMSE's _Booth in_ Bartholomew Fair, _Set by Mr._ JOHN BARRETT.

[Music]

War, War and Battle now no more,
Shall your thun'dring Cannons roar;
No more, no more of War complain,
Peace begins, Peace begins her _Halcyon_ Reign:
For now the Tow'ring Bird of _Jove_,
Stoops, stoops to the gentle Billing _Dove_.

_A_ SONG _Set by Mr._ Daniel Purcell, _and Sung at the_ Theatre _Royal in_ DRURY-LANE.

[Music]

_Cupid_ make your Virgins tender,
Make 'em easy to be won;
Let 'em presently surrender,
When the Treaty's once begun:
Such as like a tedious Wooing,
Let 'em cruel Damsels find:
But let such as wou'd, as wou'd be doing,
Prithee, prithee, prithee _Cupid_ make 'em kind,
Prithee, prithee _Cupid_ make 'em kind.

_A_ Scotch SONG, _Sung by Mrs._ Willis _at the_ THEATRE.

[Music]

Ken you, who comes here,
The Laird of aw the Clan;
Whom Ise Love but fear,
Because a muckle Man:
But what if he's Great,
He descends from his State,
And receive him, receive him as you can.

Come my Bonny Blith Lads,
Shew your best Lukes and Plads,
Our Laird is here;
Whom we shou'd Love,
And who shou'd approve,
Our Respect as well as Fear,
For the Laird is here whom we Love and Fear.

_A_ SONG _in the Loves of_ MARS _and_ VENUS _Set by Mr._ J. Eccles, _Sung by Mrs._ Hudson.

[Music]

To meet her _Mars_ the Queen of Love,
Comes here adorn'd with all her Charms;
The Warriour best the Fair can move,
And crowns his Toils in Beauty's Arms:
The Warriour best the Fair can move,
And crowns his Toils in Beauty's Arms.

_A_ SONG _in the Comedy call'd Love betray'd, Sung by Mrs._ Bracegirdle, _Set by Mr._ John Eccles.

[Music]

If I hear _Orinda_ Swear,
She cures my Jealous Smart;
If I hear _Orinda_ Swear,
She cures my Jealous Smart:
The Treachery becomes the Fair,
And doubly Fires my Heart;
The Treachery becomes the Fair,
And doubly Fires my Heart.

Beauty's Strength and Treasure,
In Falshood still remain;
She gives the greatest Pleasure,
That gives the greatest Pain,
That gives the greatest Pain:
She gives the greatest Pleasure,
She gives the greatest Pleasure,
That gives the greatest Pain:
She gives the greatest Pleasure,
She gives the greatest Pleasure,
That gives the greatest Pain,
That gives the greatest Pain.

_A_ SONG _in the_ Funeral, _Sung by Mrs._ Harris, _Set by Mr._ Daniel Purcel.

[Music]

Let not Love, let not Love on me, on me bestow,
Soft Distress, soft Distress and tender Woe;
I know none, no, no, no, none but substantial Blisses,
Eager Glances, eager Glances, solid Kisses:
I know not what the Lover feign,
Of finer Pleasure mixt with Pain:
Then prithee, prithee give me gentle Boy,
None of thy Grief, but all, all, all, all, but all, all, all, all, all,
all the Joy;
But all, all, all, all, all, all the Joy.
Prithee give me, prithee give me gentle Boy,
None of thy Grief, but all, all, all, all, but all, all, all, all, all,
all the Joy,
But all, all, all, all, all, all the Joy.

_A_ SONG _in the Loves of_ MARS _and_ VENUS, _Set by Mr._ J. ECCLES, _Sung by Mr._ Morgan.

[Music]

Fly, fly ye lazy Hours, hast, bring him here,
Swift, swift as my fond Wishes are;
When we Love, and Love to Rage,
Ev'ry Moment seems an Age:
When we Love, and Love to Rage,
Ev'ry Moment seems an Age.

_A_ Scotch SONG, _Sung by Mrs._ BALLDEN.

[Music]

Oh! my Panting, panting Heart,
Why so Young, and why so sad?
Why does Pleasure seem a Smart,
Or I wretched while I'm Glad?
Oh! Lovers Goddess, who wert form'd,
From Cold and Icy, Icy Seas;
Instruct me why I am thus warm'd!
And Darts at once can wound and please.

_A_ SONG _Set by Mr._ John Eccles, _Sung by Mrs._ HODGSON.

[Music]

Fye _Amarillis_, cease to grieve,
Fye, fye, fye, fye cease, cease to grieve,
Fye, fye, fye, fye, cease, cease to grieve,
For him thou never canst retrieve;
Wilt thou Sigh for one that flies thee,
Wilt thou Sigh for one that flies thee,
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, Scorn the wretch,
Scorn the wretch, that Love denies thee,
Scorn the wretch, scorn the wretch,
That Love, that Love denies thee.

Call Pride to thy aid, and be not afraid,
Of meeting a Swain that is kind;
As handsome as he, perhaps he may be,
At least, at least a more Generous Mind:
As handsome as he, perhaps he may be,
At least a more Generous Mind,
At least a more Generous Mind.

_A_ SONG _in the Comedy call'd_, The Old Batchelour, _Set by Mr._ HENRY PURCELL.

[Music]

As _Amoret_ and _Thyrsis_ lay,
As _Amoret_ and _Thyrsis_ lay;
Melting, melting, melting, melting the Hours in gentle play,
Joyning, joyning, joyning Faces, mingling Kisses,
Mingling kisses, mingling kisses, and exchanging harmless Blisses:
He trembling cry'd with eager, eager hast,
Let me, let me, let me feed, oh! oh! let me, let me,
Let me, let me feed, oh! oh! oh! oh! let me, let me, let me, let
me Feed as well as Tast,
I dye, dye, dye, I dye, dye, I dye,
I dye, if I'm not wholly Blest.

The fearful Nymph reply'd forbear,
I cannot, dare not, must not hear;
Dearest _Thyrsis_ do not move me,
Do not, do not, if you Love me:
O let me still, the Shepherd said,
But while she fond resistance made,
The hasty Joy in struggling fled.

Vex'd at the Pleasure she had miss'd,
She frown'd and blush'd, and sigh'd and kiss'd,
And seem'd to moan, in sullen Cooing,
The sad miscarriage of their Wooeing:
But vain alass! were all her Charms,
For _Thyrsis_ deaf to Love's Alarms,
Baffled and fenceless, tir'd her Arms.

_A_ SONG.

[Music]

She met with a Country-man,
In the middle of all the Green;
And _Peggy_ was his Delight,
And good Sport was to be seen.

But ever she cry'd brave _Roger_,
I'll drink a whole Glass to thee;
But as for _John_ of the Green,
I care not a Pin for him.

Bulls and Bears, and Lyons, and Dragons,
And O brave _Roger_ a _Cauverly_;
Piggins and Wiggins, Pints and Flaggons,
O brave, _&c._

He took her by the middle,
And taught her by the Flute;
Well done brave _Roger_ quoth she,
Thou hast not left thy old Wont.
But ever she cry'd, _&c._

He clap'd her upon the Buttock,
And forth she let a Fart;
My Belly quoth she is eased by thee,
And I thank thee _Roger_ for't.

_Love's Conquest._

[Music]

As unconcern'd and free as Air,
I did retain my Liberty;
Laugh'd at the Fetters of the Fair,
And scorn'd a beauties Slave to be:
'Till your bright Eyes surpriz'd my Heart,
And first inform'd me how to Love;
Then Pleasure did invade each Part,
Yet to conceal my Flame I strove.

As _Indians_ at a distance pay,
Their awful reverence to the Sun:
And dare not 'till he'll bless the Day,
Seem to have any thing begun:
Thus I rest, 'till your Smiles invite,
My Looks and Thoughts I do constrain;
And tremble to express Delight,
Unless you please to ease my Pain.

_A_ SONG _in the Comedy call'd, the_ Wife's Excuse. _By_ H. P.

[Music]

_Corinna_ I excuse thy Face,
Those erring Lines, which Nature drew;
When I reflect that ev'ry Grace,
Thy Mind adorns, is just and true:
But oh! thy Wit what God hast sent,
Surprising, Airy, unconfin'd;
Some wonder sure _Apollo_ meant,
And shot himself into thy Mind.

_The_ Sailors SONG _in the Subscription_ Musick, _Set by Mr._ Weldon, _Sung by Mr._ Dogget.

[Music]

Just coming from Sea, our Spouses and we,
We Punch it, we Punch it, we Punch it,
We Punch it, we Punch it a Board with Couragio;
We Sing Laugh and Cling, and in Hammocks we swing,
And Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey my brave Boys Bonviago:
We Sing Laugh and Cling, and in Hammocks we swing,
We Sing Laugh and Cling, and in Hammocks we swing,
And Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, my brave Boys Bonviago.

_The Serenading_ SONG _in the_ Constant Couple, _or a Trip to the_ Jubilee; _Written by Mr._ G. FARQUHAR, _Set by Mr._ D. Purcell, _Sung by Mr._ FREEMAN.

[Music]

Thus _Damon_ knock'd at _CÊlia's_ Door,
Thus _Damon_ knock'd at _CÊlia's_ Door,
He sigh'd and begg'd, and wept and swore,
The sign was so, She answer'd no,
The sign was so, She answer'd no, no, no, no.

Again he sigh'd, again he pray'd,
No _Damon_ no, no, no, no, no, I am afraid;
Consider _Damon_ I'm a Maid,
Consider _Damon_ no, no, no, no, no, no, no, I'm a Maid.

At last his Sighs and Tears made way,
She rose and softly turn'd the Key;
Come in said she, but do not, do not stay,
I may conclude, you will be rude;
But if you are you may:
I may conclude, you will be rude,
But if you are you may.

_A 'Squire's Choice; or the Coy Lady's Beauty by him admir'd._

[Music]

The World is a Bubble and full of Decoys,
Her glittering Pleasures are flattering Toys;
The which in themselves no true Happiness brings,
Rich Rubies, nay Diamonds, Chains, Jewels and Rings:
They are but as Dross, and in Time will decay,
So will Virgin Beauty, so will Virgin Beauty,
Tho' never so gay.

Then boast not young _Phillis_ because thou art Fair,
Soft Roses and Lillies more beautiful are,
Than ever thou wast, when they in their Prime,
And yet do they fade in a very short time:
All temporal Glories in time will decay,
So will Virgin Beauty, so will Virgin Beauty,
Tho' never so gay.

Since all things are changing and nothing will last,
Since Years, Months, and Minutes thy Beauty will blast,
Like Flowers that fade in the fall of the Leaf,
Afford me thy Favour and pity my Grief:
E'er thy Youth and Beauty does clearly depart,
For thou art my Jewel, for thou art my Jewel,
The Joy of my Heart.

I value not Riches, for Riches I have,
I value not Honour, no Honour I crave;
But what thou art able to bless me withal,
And if by thy Frowns to Despair I should fall:
Then Farewel those Joys which so long I have sought,
To languish in Sorrow, to languish in Sorrow,
Alass! I am brought.

I come not to flatter, as many have done,
Afford me a Smile, or my Dear I shall run
Distracted, as being disturbed in Mind,
Then now, now, or never be loving and kind:
This Day thou canst cherish my sorrowful State,
To morrow sweet Jewel, to morrow sweet Jewel,
It may be too late.

You know that young Women has rail'd against Men,
And counted them false and base flatterers, when
We find that your Sexs are as cruel to us,
Or else you would never have Tortur'd me thus:
As now you have done by your Darts of Disdain,
You know that I love you, you know that I love you,
Yet all is in vain.

_The Damsels Answer, To the same Tune._

Now dry up thy Tears, and no longer exclaim,
Against thy Fair beautiful _Phillis_ by Name;
Who never as yet was acquainted with Love,
Yet here I declare by the Powers above:
I cannot be Cruel to one that is True,
Wherefore bid thy Sorrows, wherefore bid thy Sorrows
For ever adieu.

With all the Affections that Words can express,
I freely surrender, and can do no less;
When as I consider in e'ery Degree,
How loyal and faithful thou hast been to me,
I cannot be Cruel to one that is True,
And so bid thy Sorrows, and so bid thy Sorrows
For ever adieu.

_The Jolly SAILOR's Resolution._

[Music]

As I am a Sailor, 'tis very well known,
And I've never as yet had a Wife of my own;
But now I am resolved to Marry if I can,
To show my self a Jolly, Jolly brisk young Man,
Man, Man,
To show my self a Jolly, Jolly brisk young Man.

Abroad I have been, and since home I am come,
My Wages I have took, 'tis a delicate Sum;
And now Mistress Hostess begins to flatter me,
But I have not forgot her former Cruelty,
ty, ty,
But I have not forgot her former Cruelty.

Near _Lymehouse_ she liv'd, where I formerly us'd,
I'll show you in brief how I once was abus'd,
After in her House I had quite consumed my store,
But kick me if I ever, ever feast her more,
more, more,
But kick me if I ever, ever feast her more.

I came to her once with abundance of Gold,
And as she that beautiful Sight did behold;
She said with a Kiss thou art welcome _John_ to me,
For I have shed a Thousand, Thousand Tears for thee,
Thee, thee,
For I have shed a Thousand, Thousand Tears for thee.

Her flattering Words I was apt to believe,
And then at my Hands she did freely receive;
A Ring which she said she would keep for _Johnny's_ sake,
She wept for Joy as if her very Heart wou'd break:
Break, break,
She wept for Joy as if her very Heart wou'd break.

We feasted on Dainties and drank of the best,
Thought I with my Friends I am happily blest;
For Punch, Beer and Brandy they Night and Day did call,
And I was honest _Johnny_, _Johnny_ pay for all:
All, all,
And I was honest _Johnny_, _Johnny_ pay for all.

They ply'd me so warm, that in troth I may say,
That I scarce in a Month knew the Night from the Day;
My Hostess I kiss'd, tho' her Husband he was by,
For while my Gold and Silver lasted, who but I:
I, I,
For while my Gold and Silver lasted, who but I.

They said I should Marry their dear Daughter _Kate_,
And in Token of Love I presented her strait:
With a Chain of Gold, and a rich costly Head,
Thus _Johnny_, _Johnny_, _Johnny_ by the Nose was lead:
Lead, lead,
Thus _Johnny_, _Johnny_, _Johnny_ by the Nose was lead.

This Life I did lead for a Month and a Day,
And then all my Glory begun to decay:
My Money was gone, I quite consum'd my Store,
My Hostess told me in a Word, she would not Score,
Score, Score,
My Hostess told me in a Word, she would not Score.

She frown'd like a Fury, and _Kate_ was Coy,
A Kiss or a Smile I no more must enjoy,
Nay, if that I call'd but for a Mug of Beer,
My Hostess she was very Deaf and could not hear,
hear, hear,
My Hostess she was very Deaf and could not hear.

But that which concern'd me more than the rest,
My Money it was gone, and she'd needs have me Prest;
Aboard of the Fleet, then I in a Passion flew,
And ever since I do abhor the Canting Crew,
Crew, Crew,
And ever since I do abhor the canting Crew.

Now having replenish'd my Stock once again,
My Hostess and Daughter I vow to refrain
Their Company quite, and betake my self to a Wife,
With whom I hope to live a sober Life,
Life, Life,
With whom I hope to live a sober Life.

Then in came a Damsel as fresh as a Rose,
He gave her a Kiss, and began for to close,
In Courting, and said, canst love an honest Tar,
Who for this Six or Seven Years has travell'd far,
Far, far,
Who for this Six or Seven Years has travell'd far.

His offer was noble, his Guineas was good,
And therefore the innocent Maid never stood
To make a Denial, but granted his Request,
And now she's with a jolly Sailor, Sailor blest.
Blest, blest,
And now she's with a jolly Sailor, Sailor blest.

CUPID'S _Courtesie._

[Music]

Through the cold shady Woods,
As I was ranging,
I heard the pretty Birds,
Notes sweetly changing:
Down by the Meadow's side,
There runs a River
A little Boy I spy'd
With Bow and Quiver.

Little Boy tell me why
Thou art here diving?
Art thou some Run-away;
And hast no abiding?
I am no Run-away,
_Venus_ my Mother,
She gave me leave to play,
When I came hither.

Little Boy go with me,
And be my servant,
I will take care to see
For thy preferment:
If I with thee should go,
_Venus_ would chide me,
And take away my Bow,
And never abide me.

Little Boy let me know,
What's thy Name termed,
That thou dost wear a Bow,
And go so arm'd:
You may perceive the same,
With often changing;
_Cupid_ it is my Name,
I live by ranging.

If _Cupid_ be thy Name,
That shoot at Rovers;
I have heard of thy Fame,
By wounded Lovers:
Should any languish that
Are set on fire;
By such a naked Brat,
I much admire.

If thou dost but the least,
At my Laws grumble;
I'll pierce thy stubborn breast,
And make thee humble,
If I with Golden Dart,
Wound thee but surely,
There's no Physitians Art,
That e're can cure thee.

Little Boy with thy Bow,
Why dost thou threaten;
It is not long ago
Since thou wast beaten:
Thy wanton Mother, fair
_Venus_ will chide thee;
When all thy Arrows are gone,
Thou may'st go hide thee.

Of powerful shafts you see,
I am well stored;
Which makes my Deity,
So much adored:
With one poor Arrow now,
I'll make thee shiver;
And bend unto my Bow,
And fear my Quiver.

Dear little _Cupid_ be,
Courteous and kindly;
I know thou can'st not see,
But shootest blindly:
Altho' thou call'st me blind,
Surely I'll hit thee;
That thou shalt quickly find,
I'll not forget thee.

Then little _Cupid_ caught,
His Bow so nimble;
And shot a fatal shaft,
Which made him tremble:
Go tell thy Mistress dear,
Thou canst discover;
What all the Passions are,
Of a dying Lover.

And now this gallant Heart
Sorely lies bleeding;
He felt the greatest smart,
From Love proceeding;
He did her help implore,
Whom he affected,
But found that more and more,
Him she rejected.

For _Cupid_ with his Craft,
Quickly had chosen,
And with a Leaden shaft,
Her Heart had frozen:
Which caus'd this Lover more,
Daily to languish;
And _Cupid's_ Aid implore,
To heal this Anguish.

He humble pardon crav'd
For his Offence past;
And vow'd himself a Slave,
And to love stedfast;
His Prayers so ardent were,
Whilst his Heart panted,
That _Cupid_ lent an ear,
And his suit granted.

For by his present plaint,
He was regarded;
And his adored Saint,
His Love rewarded:
And now they live in Joy,
Sweetly embracing,
And left the little Boy,
In the Woods chasing.

_The Duke of_ GLOUCESTER's _March, Set by Dr._ BLOW.

[Music]

And now, now the Duke's March,
Let the Haut-boys play;
And his Troops in the Close,
Shall Huzza, Huzza, Huzza:
And now, now the Duke's March,
Let the Haut-boys play;
And his Troops in the Close,
Shall Huzza, Huzza, Huzza.

_A_ SONG _Sung at_ RICHMOND _New Wells, the Words by_ M. S. _Set by Mr._ MORGAN.

[Music]

_Aurelia_ now one Moment lost,
A thousand Sighs may after cost;
Desires may oft return in vain,
But Youth will ne'er return again:
Desires may oft return in vain,
But Youth will ne'er return again.

The fragrant sweets which do adorn,
The glowing blushes of the Morn;
By Noon are vanish'd all away,
Then let _Aurelia_ live to Day.

_A_ SONG _Sung by Mrs._ PRINCE _in the_ Agreeable Disappointment. _Sett by Mr._ JOHN ECCLES.

[Music]

_Chloe_ found Love for his _Psyche_ in Tears,
She play'd with his Dart, and smil'd at his Fears, fears;
'Till feeling at length the Poison it keeps,
_Cupid_ he smiles, and _Chloe_ she weeps:
'Till feeling at length the Poison it keeps,
_Cupid_ he smiles, and _Chloe_ she weeps.
_Cupid_ he smiles, and _Chloe_ she weeps.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ JOHN BARRETT.

[Music]

_Liberia's_ all my Thought and Dream,
She's all, all, all, she's all, all, all, my Pleasure
and my Pain:
_Liberia's_ all that I esteem,
And all I fear is her Disdain,
Her Wit, her Humour and her Face,
Please beyond all I felt before:
Oh! Why can't I Admire her less,
Or dear _Liberia_, or dear _Liberia_ love me more!

Like Stars all other Female Charms,
Ne'er touch my Heart, but Feast my Eyes;
For she's the only Sun that Warms,
With her alone I'd live and dye:
Immortal Pow'rs whose Work Divine,
Inspires my Soul with so much Love;
Grant your _Liberia_ may be mine,
And then, then, then, then, and then, then I
share your Joys above.

_Coy_ BELINDA, _and False_ AMINDOR.

[Music]

Coy _Belinda_ may discover,
Love is nothing but a Name;
'Tis not Beauty warms the Lover,
When he tells her of his Flame:
But she keeps a greater Treasure,
Binds and Bonds inflame his Heart;
Charms that flow with tides of Pleasure,
More obey'd than _Cupid's_ Dart.

False _Amintor_ leave Dissembling,
Tell her plainly you are Poor;
Hence are all your Sighs and Tremblings,
When you talk of your Amour:
Tho' you Sigh, and tho' you Languish,
'Till she gives herself away;
Then you soon forget your Anguish,
And _Belinda_ must obey.

_An Amorous Address to the charming_ CORINNA.

[Music]

_Corinna_ 'tis you that I Love,
And love with a Passion, a Passion so great;
That death a less Torment would prove,
Than either your Frown or your hate:
So soft and prevailing your Charms,
In vain I should strive to retreat;
Oh! then let me live in your Arms,
Or dye in Despair at your Feet.

In vain I may pray to Love's Powers,
To ease me and pity my Pain;
Since the Heart that I sue for is yours,
Who all other Powers disdain:
Like a _Goddess_ you Absolute reign,
You alone 'tis can save or kill;
To whom else then should I complain,
Since my fate must depend on your will.

_The Coy Lass dress'd up in her best Commode and Top-knot._

[Music]

Do not rumple my Top-knot,
I'll not be kiss'd to Day;
I'll not be hawl'd and pull'd about,
Thus on a Holy-day:
Then if your Rudeness you don't leave,
No more is to be said;
See this long Pin upon my Sleeve,
I'll run up to the Head:
And if you rumple my head Gear,
I'll give you a good flurt on the Ear.

Come upon a Worky-day,
When I have my old Cloaths on;
I shall not be so nice nor Coy,
Nor stand so much upon:
Then hawl and pull, and do your best,
Yet I shall gentle be:
Kiss hand, and Mouth, and feel my Breast,
And tickle to my Knee:
I won't be put out of my rode,
You shall not rumple my Commode.

_A_ SONG _in the Dramatick_ OPERA _of_ KING ARTHUR. _Written by Mr._ DRYDEN.

[Music]

Fairest Isle, all Isles excelling,
Seat of pleasures, and of Love;
_Venus_ here, will chuse her dwelling,
And forsake her _Cyprian Grove_.

_Cupid_ from his fav'rite Nation,
Care and Envy will remove;
Jealousy that poisons Passion,
And Despair that dies for Love.

Gentle murmurs sweet complaining,
Sighs that blow the fire of Love;
Soft Repulses, kind Disdaining,
Shall be all the Pains you prove.

Every Swain shall pay his Duty,
Grateful every Nymph shall prove;
And as these excel in Beauty,
Those shall be renown'd for Love.

_A_ SONG _in the Comedy call'd the_ (Wives Excuse: _Or_, Cuckolds make themselves.) _Sung by Mrs._ BUTLER.

[Music]

Hang this whining way of Wooing,
Loving was design'd a sport;
Sighing, talking without doing,
Makes a sily Idol court:
Don't believe that Words can move her,
If she be not well inclin'd;
She herself must be the Lover,
To perswade her to be kind:
If at last she grants the Favour,
And consents to be undone;
Never think your Passion gave her,
To your wishes, but her own.

_A_ SONG _in the Opera call'd the_ (Fairy Queen,) _Sung by Mr._ PATE.

[Music]

Here's the Summer sprightly, gay,
Smiling, wanton, fresh and fair:
Adorn'd with all the Flowers of _May_,
Whose various sweets perfume the Air,
Adorn'd with all the Flowers of _May_,
Whose various sweets perfume the Air.

_A_ DOG _of_ WAR:

_Or, The Travels of _DRUNKARD, _the famous Curr of the Round _WOOLSTAPLE _in_ WESTMINSTER. _His Services in the_ NETHERLANDS, _and lately in _FRANCE, _with his return home._

_The_ ARGUMENT.

_An Honest, Well-knowing, and well-known Souldier, (whose Name for some Reasons I conceal) dwelt lately in _Westminster, _in the round Woolstaple, he was a Man only for Action, but such Actions as Loyalty did always justifie, either for his Prince, Country, or their dear and near Friends or Allies, in such noble designs he would and did often with Courage and good Approvement employ himself in the Low-countries, having always with him a little black Dog, whom he called_ Drunkard; _which Curr would (by no means) ever forsake or leave him. But lately in these French Wars, the Dog being in the Isle of_ RHEA, _where his Master (valiantly fighting) was Unfortunately slain, whose death was griev'd for by as many as knew him; and as the Corps lay dead, the poor loving Masterless Dog would not forsake it, until an English Souldier pull'd off his Masters Coat, whom the Dog followed to a Boat, by which means he came back to_ Westminster, _where he now remains. Upon whose Fidelity, (for the love I owed his deceased Master) I have writ these following Lines, to express my Addiction to the Proverb,_ Love me and Love my Dog.

To the Reader.

_Reader if you expect_
_from hence_,
_An overplus of Wit_
_or Sence_,
_I deal with no such_
_Traffique:_

Heroicks _and_
Iambicks _I_,
_My Buskinde Muse hath_
_laid them by_,
_Pray be content with_
Saphicke.

Drunkard _the Dog my_
_Patron is_,
_And he doth love me_
_well for this_,
_Whose Love I take for_
_Guerdon_;

_And he's a Dog of_ Mars
_his Train_
_Who hath seen Men and_
_Horses slain_,
_The like was never_
_heard on._

DRUNKARD _or the faithful Dog of War._

[Music]

Stand clear, my Masters
'ware your Shins,
For now to Bark my
Muse begins,
Tis of a Dog, I
write now:
Yet let me tell you
for excuse,
That Muse or Dog, or
Dog or Muse,
Have no intent to
bite now.

In Doggrel Rhimes my
Lines are writ,
As for a Dog I thought
it fit,
And fitting best his
Carkass.
Had I been silent as
a Stoick,
Or had I writ in
Verse Heroick,
Then had I been a
Stark Ass.

Old _Homer_ wrote of
Frogs and Mice,
And _Rabblaies_ wrote of
Nits and Lice,
And _Virgil_ of
a Flye:
One wrote the Treatise
of the Fox,
Another prais'd the
Frenchman's Pox,
Whose praise was but
a Lye.

Great _Alexander_ had
a Horse,
A famous Beast of
mighty force
Yecleap'd _Buce-_
_phalus_:
He was a stout and
sturdy Steed,
And of an exc'lent Race
and Breed,
But that concerns
not us.

I list not write the
Baby praise
Of Apes, or Owls, or
Popingeys,
Or of the Cat
_Grammalkin:_
But of a true and trusty
Dog,
Who well could fawn,
But never cog,
His Praise my Pen must
walk in.

And _Drunkard_ he is
falsely nam'd,
For which that Vice he
ne'er was blam'd,
For he Loves not God
_Bacchus_:
The Kitchin he esteems
more dear,
Than Cellars full of
Wine or Beer,
Which oftentimes doth
wreck us.

He is no Mastiff, huge
of Lim,
Or Water-spaniel, that
can Swim,
Nor Blood-Hound nor
no Setter:
No Bob-tail Tyke, or
Trundle-tayl,
Nor can he Partridge spring
or Quail,
But yet he is much
better.

No Dainty Ladies
fisting-Hound,
That lives upon our
_Britain_ Ground,
Nor Mungrel Cur or
Shogh:
Should Litters or whole
Kennels dare,
With Honest _Drunkard_
to compare,
My Pen writes, _marry
fough_.

The Otter-Hound, the
Fox-Hound, nor
The swift Foot Grey-Hound
car'd he for,
Nor _Cerberus_ Hell's
Bandogg;
His Service proves them
Curs and Tikes,
And his Renown a
Terror strikes,
In Water-Dog and
Land-Dog.

'Gainst brave _Buquoy_ or
stout _Dampiere_,
He durst have Bark'd
without Fear,
Or 'gainst the hot
Count _Tilly_:
At _Bergen_ Leaguer and
_Bredha_,
Against the Noble
_Spinola_,
He shew'd himself not
silly.

He serv'd his Master
at commands,
In the most Warlike
_Netherlands_,
In _Holland_, _Zeeland_,
_Brabant_:
He to him still was
true and just,
And if his fare were but
a Crust,
He patiently would
knab on't.

He durst t have stood
Stern _Ajax_ Frown,
When Wise _Ulysses_
talk'd him down
In grave _Diebus_
_illis_;
When he by cunning
prating won
The Armour from
fierce Tellamon,
That 'longed to
_Achilles_.

Brave _Drunkard_, oft on
God's dear Ground,
Took such poor Lodging
as he found,
In Town, Field, Camp
or Cottage;
His Bed but cold, his
Dyet thin,
He oft in that poor case
was in,
To want both Meat and
Pottage.

Two rows of Teeth for
Arms he bore,
Which in his Mouth he
always wore,
Which serv'd to fight and
feed too:
His grumbling for his
Drum did pass,
And barking (lowd) his
Ordnance was,
Which help'd in time of
need too.

His Tail his Ensign
he did make,
Which he would oft display
and shake,
Fast in his Poop
uprear'd:
His Powder hot, but
somewhat dank,
His Shot in (scent) most
dangerous rank,
Which sometimes made him
feared.

Thus hath he long serv'd
near and far,
Well known to be a
_Dog of War_,
Though he ne'er shot with
Musket:
Yet Cannons roar or
Culverings,
That whizzing through
the welkin sings,
He slighted as a
Pus-Cat.

For Guns, nor Drums,
nor Trumpets clang.
Nor hunger, cold, nor
many a pang,
Could make him leave his
Master:
In Joy, and in
Adversity,
In Plenty, and in
Poverty,
He often was a
Taster.

Thus serv'd he on the
_Belgia_ Coast,
Yet ne'er was heard to
brag or boast,
Of Services done by
him:
He is no Pharisee
to blow,
A Trumpet, his good
Deeds to show,
'Tis pity to bely
him.

At last he Home return'd
in Peace,
Till Wars, and Jars, and
Scars increase
'Twixt us, and _France_,
in malice:
Away went he and
crost the Sea,
With's Master, to the
Isle of _Rhea_,
A good way beyond
_Callice_.

He was so true, so good,
so kind,
He scorn'd to stay at Home
behind,
And leave his Master
frustrate;
For which could I like
_Ovid_ write,
Or else like _Virgil_ could
indite,
I would his Praise
illustrate.

I wish my Hands could
never stir,
But I do love a
thankful Curr,
More than a Man
ingrateful:
And this poor Dog's
Fidelity,
May make a thankless
Knave descry,
How much that Vice is
hateful.

For why, of all the
Faults of Men,
Which they have got from
Hell's black Den,
Ingratitude the
worst is:
For Treasons, Murders,
Incests, Rapes,
Nor any Sin in
any shapes,
So bad, nor so
accurst is.

I hope I shall no
Anger gain,
If I do write a word
Or twain,
How this Dog was
distressed;
His Master being
wounded dead,
Shot, cut and slash'd, from
Heel to Head,
Think how he was
oppressed.

To lose him that he
loved most,
And be upon a Foreign
Coast,
Where no Man would
relieve him:
He lick'd his Masters
Wounds in Love,
And from his Carkass
would not move,
Altho' the sight
did grieve him.

By chance a Souldier
passing by,
That did his Masters
Coat espy,
And quick away he
took it:
But _Drunkard_ followed
to a Boat,
To have again his Master's
Coat,
Such Theft he could not
brook it.

So after all his wo
and wrack,
To _Westminster_ he was
brought back,
A poor half starved
Creature;
And in remembrance of
his cares,
Upon his back he
closely wears
A Mourning Coat by
Nature.

Live _Drunkard_, sober
_Drunkard_ live,
I know thou no offence
wilt give,
Thou art a harmless
Dumb thing;
And for thy love I'll
freely grant,
Rather than thou shouldst
ever want,
Each Day to give thee
something.

Thou shalt be _Stellifide_
by me,
I'll make the _Dog-star_
wait on thee,
And in his room I'll
seat thee:
When _Sol_ doth in his
Progress swing,
And in the Dog-days
hotly sing,
He shall not over-
heat thee.

I lov'd thy Master, so
did all
That knew him,
great and small,
And he did well
deserve it:
For he was Honest,
Valiant, Good,
And one that Manhood
understood,
And did till Death
preserve it.

For whose sake, I'll
his Dog prefer,
And at the Dog at
_Westminster_,
Shall _Drunkard_ be a
Bencher;
Where I will set a
work his Chops,
Not with bare Bones, or
broken scraps,
But Victuals from my
Trencher.

So honest _Drunkard_
now adieu,
Thy Praise no longer
I'll pursue,
But still my Love is
to thee:
And when thy Life is
gone and spent,
These Lines shall be thy
Monument,
And shall much Service
do thee.

_A_ SONG _Sung by Mrs._ AYLIFF _in the Play call'd_ Love Triumphant: _Or_, Nature will Prevail, _Sett by Mr._ HENRY PURCELL.

[Music]

How happy's the Husband, how happy's the Husband,
Whose Wife has been try'd, has been try'd,
Not damn'd to the Bed, not damn'd to the Bed of an
ignorant Bride;
Secure of what's left, secure of what's left, he ne'er
misses the rest,
But where there's enough, enough, enough, but where
there's enough, supposes a Feast:
So foreknowing the Cheat,
He escapes the Deceit;
And in spight of the Curse he resolves, he resolves to
be blest.
And in spight of the Curse he resolves, he resolves to
be blest.
He resolves to be blest, he resolves, he resolves to
be blest.
If Children are blessings, his comfort's the more,
Whose Spouse has been known to be fruitful before;
And the Boy that she brings ready made to his Hand,
May stand him in stead for an Heir to his Land:
Shou'd his own prove a Sot,
When 'tis lawfully got
As when e'er it is so, if it won't I'll be hang'd.

_A New_ SONG, _to the Tune of the Old Batchelor._

[Music]

If ever you mean to be kind,
To me the Favour, the Favour allow;
For fear that to Morrow should alter my Mind,
Oh! let me now, now, now,
If in Hand then a Guinea you'll give,
And swear by this kind Embrace;
That another to Morrow, as you hope to live,
Oh! then I will strait unlace:
For why should we two disagree,
Since we have, we have opportunity.

_A_ SONG, _Set to Musick by Mr._ Will. Richardson.

[Music]

I know her false, I know her base,
I know that Gold alone can move;
I know she Jilts me to my Face,
And yet good Gods, and yet good Gods I know I Love.

I see too plain and yet am Blind,
Wou'd think her true, while she forsooth;
To me and to my Rival's kind,
Courts him, courts me, courts him, courts me, and Jilts us both.

_A_ Scotch SONG.

[Music]

Fye _Jockey_ never prattle more so like a _Loon_,
No Rebel e'er shall gar my Heart to Love:
_Sawney_ was a Loyal _Scot_ tho' dead and gone,
And _Jenny_ in her _Daddy's_ way with muckle Joy shall move:
Laugh at the _Kirk-Apostles_ & the Canting swarms,
And fight with bonny Lads that love their Monarchy and King,
Then _Jenny_ fresh and blith shall take thee in her Arms,
And give thee twanty Kisses, and perhaps a better thing.

_A_ SONG _in the_ Fairy Queen. _Sung by Mrs._ Dyer.

[Music]

I Am come to lock all fast,
Love without me cannot last:
Love, like counsels of the Wise,
Must be hid from vulgar Eyes;
'Tis holy, 'tis holy, and we must, we must conceal it,
They prophane it, they prophane it, who reveal it,
They prophane it, they profane it, who reveal it.

_A New_ SONG, _Set to the FLUTE._

[Music]

After the pangs of fierce Desire,
The doubts and hopes that wait on Love;
And feed by turns the raging Fire,
How charming must Fruition prove:
When the triumphant Lover feels,
None of those Pains which once he bore;
Or when reflecting on his Ills,
He makes his Pleasure, Pleasure more,
He makes his Pleasure, Pleasure more.

_A_ SONG _in the Comedy call'd_ Sir Anthony Love: _Or_, The Rambling Lady, _Set by Mr._ HENRY PURCELL.

[Music]

In vain _Clemene_, you bestow,
The promis'd Empire of your Heart;
If you refuse to let me know,
The wealthy Charms of every part.

My Passion with your kindness grew,
Tho' Beauty gave the first desire,
But Beauty only to pursue,
Is following a wandring Fire.

As Hills in perspective, suppress,
The free enquiry of the sight:
Restraint makes every Pleasure less,
And takes from Love the full delight.

Faint Kisses may in part supply,
Those eager Longings of my Soul;
But oh! I'm lost, if you deny,
A quick possession of the whole.

_A_ SONG, _Set to Musick by Mr._ GRAVES.

[Music]

My dear _Corinna_ give me leave,
To gaze, to gaze on her I Love;
The Gods cou'd never, never yet conceive,
Her Worth, tho' from above;
There's none on Earth can equalize,
So sweet, so sweet a Soul as she;
Who ever gains so great a Prize,
Has all, has all that Heav'n can be.

Curse on my Fate, who plac'd me here,
In a Sphere, a Sphere, so much below,
My Love, my Life, my all that's dear;
And yet she must not know:
The torment for her I sustain,
Shall ill, shall ill rewarded be;
When loving, when loving, and not Lov'd again,
Does prove, does prove, a Hell to me.

_A Mock Song to_ If Love's a sweet Passion.

[Music]

If Wine be a Cordial why does it Torment?
If a Poison oh! tell me whence comes my Content?
Since I drink it with Pleasure, why should I complain?
Or repent ev'ry Morn when I know 'tis in vain:
Yet so charming the Glass is, so deep is the Quart,
That at once it both drowns and enlivens my Heart.

I take it off briskly and when it is down,
By my jolly Complexion I make my Joy known;
But oh! how I'm blest when so strong it does prove,
By its soveraign heat to expel that of Love:
When in quenching the Old, I creat a new Flame,
And am wrapt in such Pleasures that still want a Name.

_The_ LOYAL _Subject's WISH. By Mrs._ ANNE MORCOTT.

[Music]

Let _Mary_ live long,
She's Vertuous and Witty,
All charmingly Pretty;
Let _Mary_ live long,
And Reign many Years:
Wou'd the Cloud was gone o'er,
That troubles us sore,
When the Sun-shine appears;
We shall be deliver'd,
We shall be deliver'd,
From fury and fears.

Heavens send the King home,
With Laurels to crown him,
Each Rebel to own him;
And may he live long,
And Reign many Years:
When the Conquest is plain,
And three Kingdoms regain'd;
Let his Enemies fall,
Then _CÊsar_ shall flourish,
Then _CÊsar_ shall flourish,
In spight of them all.

All glorious and gay,
Let the King live for ever:
May he languish never, never:
Like Flowers in _May_,
His Actions smell sweet:
When the Wars are all done,
And he safe in his Throne;
Trophies lay at his Feet,
With loud Acclamations,
With loud Acclamations,
His Majesty greet.

_The Shepherdess_ LERINDA'S _Complaint, by_ Walter Overbury, _Gent._

[Music]

_Lerinda_ complaineth that _Strephon_ is dull,
And that nothing diverting proceeds from his Skull;
But when once _Lerinda_ vouchsafes to be kind,
To her long Admirer she'll then quickly find:
Such strange alteration as will her confute,
That _Strephon's_ transported, that _Strephon's_ transported,
That _Strephon's_ transported and grown more acute.

_Love will find out the Way._

[Music]

Over the Mountains,
And over the Waves;
Over the Fountains,
And under the Graves:
Over Rocks which are steepest,
Which do _Neptune_ obey;
Over Floods which are the deepest,
Love will find out the way.

Where there is no place,
For the Glow-worm to lie:
Where there is no space,
For receipt of a Flye:
Where the Gnat she dares not venture,
Lest her self fast she lay:
But if Love come he will enter,
And will find out the way.

You may esteem him
A Child by his force;
Or you may deem him
A Coward, which is worse:
But if he whom Love doth Honour,
Be conceal'd from the Day;
Set a Thousand Guards upon him
Love will find out the way.