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But when bottles are rang'd
Make war with me,
The fighting fool fhall fee,
When I am funk,
The difference to ly dead,
And ly dead drunk,
The fighting fool, &c.

SONG

LXXIX.

E virgin powers, defend my heart,
From amorous looks and fmiles;

YE

From faucy love, or nicer art,

Which most our fex beguiles.

From fighs and vows, and awful fears,
That do to pity move;

From fpeaking filence, and from tears,
Thofe fprings that water love.

But if through paffion I grow blind,
Let honour be my guide;
And when frail nature feems inclin'd,
There place a guard of pride.

An heart, whofe flames are feen, tho' pure
Needs every virtue's aid;
And the who thinks herself fecure,
The fooneft is betray'd.

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HY fhou'd a foolish marriage vow,

WH Which long ago was made,

Oblige us to each other now,

When paffion is decay'd?

We lov'd, and we lov'd

As long as we cou'd,

Till love was lov'd out of us both:

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But our marriage is dead,
When the pleasure is fled;

'Twas pleasure first made it an oath.

If I have pleasures for a friend,

And further love in ftore,

What wrong has he whofe joys did end,
And who cou'd give no more ?
'Tis a madness that he
Shou'd be jealous of me,

Or that I fhou'd bar him of another;
For all we can gain,,

Is to give ourselves pain,
When neither can hinder the other.

SONG LXXXI.

Y dear miftrefs has a heart,

M's

Soft as these kind looks fhe gave me,
When with love's refiftless art,
And her eyes fhe did enflave me ;
But her conftancy's fo weak,

She's fo wild and apt to wander,
That my jealous heart would break,
Shou'd we live one day afunder,
Melting joys about her move,
Killing pleafures, wounding bliffes;
She can dress her eyes in love,
And her lips can arm with kiffes :
Angels liften when the fpeaks;

She's my delight, all mankind's wonder;

But my jealous heart would break,

Should we live one day afunder.

SONG LXXXII.

Y'LL fail upon the dog-ftar,

I'

And then purfue the morning:

Il chafe the moon till it be noon,
I'll make her leave her horning.

1

I'll climb the frofty mountain,
And there I'll coin the weather;
I'll tear the rainbow from the sky,
And ty both ends together:

The ftars pluck from their orbs too,
And crowd them in my budget;
And whether I'm a roaring boy,
Let Gresham college judge it:

While I mount yon blew celum,
To fhun the tempting gipfies;
Play at foot ball with fun and moon,
Ánd fright ye with eclipfes.

P

SONG LXXXIII.

JAMES.

RITHEE, Susan, what doft muse on,
By this doleful spring ?

You are, I fear, in love, my dear

Alas poor thing!

SUSAN.

Truly, Jamie, I must blame ye,
You look fo pale and wan;

I fear 'twill prove you are in love;
Alas poor man !

JAMES.

Nay, my Suey, now I view ye;

Well I know your smart,

;

When you're alone you figh and groan;
Alas poor heart!

SUSAN.

Jamie, hold; I dare be bold

To fay, thy heart is ftole,
And know the fhe as well as thee;
Alas poor foul!

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JAMEST

JAMES.

Then, my Sue, tell me who;
I'll give thee beads of pearl,
And ease thy heart of all this smart ;
Alas, poor girl!

SUSAN.

Jamie, no, if you fhou'd know,
I fear 'twou'd make you fad,
And pine away both night and day;
Alas poor lad!

JAMES.

Why then, my Sue, it is for you,
That I burn in thefe flames ;
And when I die, I know you'll cry,
Alas poor James!"

SUSAN.

Say you fo, then, Jamie, know,

If you thou'd prove untrue,

Then must I likewise cry,

Alas poor Sue!

Quoth he, then join thy hand with mine,
And we will wed to day:

I do agree, here 'tis, quoth fhe,
Come let's away.

W

SONG LXXXIV.

HEN, lovely Phillis, thou art kind,
Nought but raptures fill my mind

'Tis then I think thee fo divine,

T'excell the mighty power of wine:

But when thou infult'ft, and laughs at my pain,
I wash thee away with fparkling champaign;
So bravely contemn both the boy and his mother,
And drive out one God by the power of another.

When

When pity in thy looks I fee,
I fraily quit my friends for thee;
Perfuafive love fo charms me then,
My freedom I'd not wish again.

But when thou art cruel, and heeds not my care,
Then ftraight with a bumper I banish despair;
So bravely contemn both the boy and his mother,
And drive out one God by the power of another.

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SONG LXXXV.

OU that love mirth, attend to my fong,
A moment you never can better employ ;
Sawny and Teague were trudging along,

A bonny Scots lad, and an Irish dear-joy;
They neither before had seen a wind-mill,
Nor had they heard ever of any fuch name:
As they were a walking,

And merrily talking,

At laft by meer chance to a wind-mill they came.

Haha! crys Sawny, what do ye ca' that?

To tell the right name o't I am at a loss.
Teague very readily anfwer'd the Scot,

Indeed I believe it'fh fhaint Patrick's crofs.
Says Sawny, ye'll find your fell meikle mistaken,
For it faint Andrew's crofs I can fwear;
For there is his bonnet,

And tartans hang on it,

The plaid and the trews our apoftle did wear.

Nay, o' my fhoul joy, thou tellefht all lees,
For that I will fhwear is fhaint Patrick's coat;
I fhee't him in Ireland buying the freeze,

And that I'm fhure ifh the fhame that he bought; And he ish a fhaint mush better than ever

Made either the covenantfh fholemn or league:

For o' my fhalwafhion,

He was my relashion,

And had a great kindnesh for honefht poor Teague.

06

Where

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