PHi

SONG LIX.

Hillis the fairest of love's foes,
Tho' fiercer than a dragon,

Phillis that fcorn'd the powder'd beaux,
What has the now to brag on?
What has the now to brag on?
What has be, &c.

So long fhe kept her limbs fo close,
Till they have fcarce a rag on.

Compell'd thro' want, the wretched maid
Did fad complaints begin,
Which furly Strephon hearing, said,
It was both fhame and fin,
It was both fhame and fin,
It was both, &c.

To pity such a lazy jade,

Wou'd neither kifs nor spin,

SONG LX.

Hen Chloe we ply,

WH We fwear we fhall die,

Her

eyes do our heart fo enthrall;
But 'tis for her pelf,

And not for herself;

'Tis all artifice, artifice all,

The maidens are coy,

They'll pish! and they'll fie!

And fwear, if you're rude, they will call ; But whisper fo low,

By which you may know,

'Tis all artifice, artifice all.

My dear, the wives cry,
If ever you die,

To marry again I ne'er shall
But lefs than a year,
Will make it appear,
Tis all artifice, artifice all.

In matters of state,
And party-debate,

For church and for juftice we bawl ;
But if you'll attend,

You'll find in the end, 'Tis all artifice, artifice all.

SONG LXI.

The Parfon among the Pease.
NE long Whitfun holyday,
Holyday, holyday, it was a jolly day,

Young Ralph, buxom Phillida,

Phillida, a welladay!

Met in the peafe;

They long had community,

He lov'd her, she lov'd him,

Joyful unity, nought but opportunity

Scanting was wanting,

Their bofoms to eafe.

But now fortune's cruelty, cruelty,
You will fee; for as they lie,

In clofe hug, Sir Domine

Gemini Gomini

Chanc'd to come by,

Home, foon as he saw the fight,

Full of fpite, as a kite runs the lecubite,
Like a noify Hypocrite,

Hypocrite, Hypocrite,

Mifchief to fay;

Save he wou'd fair Phillida,

Phillida, Phillida drefs'd that holyday;

But poor Ralph, ah welladay!

Welladay! welladay!

Turn'd was away.
A a 2

Ads

'Ads nigs, cries Sir Domine ·
Gemini Gomini, shall a rogue stay,
To baulk me, as commonly,
Commonly, commonly,

Has been this way?

No, I ferve the family,

They know nought to blame me by,

I read prayers and homily,

Homily, homily,

Three times a-day.

SONG LXII.

OW happy are we,

HOW

Who from thinking are free,

That curbing disease of the mind,
Can indulge every taste,

Love where we like beft,
Not by dull reputation confin'd'!

When we're young, fit to toy,
Gay delights we enjoy,

And have crouds of new lovers ftill wooing;
When we're old and decay'd,

We procure for the trade,
Still in every age we are doing.

If a cully we meet,
We spend what we get
Every day, for the next never think;
When we die, where we go

We have no fenfe to know,
For a bawd always dies in her drink.

SONG, LXIII.

NE April morn, when from the fea
Phoebus was juft appearing,

Damon and Celia young and gay,
Long fettled love endearing,

Met

Met in a grove, to vent their fpleen

On parents unrelenting;

He bred of Tory-race had been,

She of the tribe diffenting.

Celia, whofe eyes outfhone the god,
Newly the hills adorning,
Told him, mamma would be stark mad,
She miffing prayers that morning;
Damon, his arm about her waist,

Swore, that nought should them funder. Shou'd my rough dad know how I'm blefs'd, "Twou'd make him roar like thunder.

Great ones made by ambition blind,
By faction ftill fupport it,

Or where vile money taints the mind,
They for convenience court it:
But mighty Love, that fcorns to fhew
Party fhou'd raise his glory,
Swears he'll exalt a vaffal true,
Let it be Whig or Tory.

SONG LXIV.

A Mongft the willows on the grafs

Where nymphs and fhepherds lie,

Young Willy courted bonny Befs;
And Nell ftood lift'ning by ;

Says Will, we will not tarry

Two months before we marry.

No, no, fie no, never, never tell me fo,
For a maid I'll live and die:

Says Nell, fo fhall not I.

Says Nell, &c.

Long time betwixt hope and defpair,

And kiffes mix'd between,

He with a fong did charm her ear,
Thinking the chang'd had been ;
Says Will, I want a bleffing,
Subftantialer than kiffing.

A a 3

No

No, no, fie no, never, never tell me fo,
For I will never change my mind.

Says Nell, he'll prove more kind.
Says Nell, &c.

Smarting pain the virgin finds,
Altho by nature taught,
When the firft to man inclines:
Quoth Nell, I'll venture that.
Oh! who wou'd lofe a treasure,
For fuch a puny pleasure !

Not I, not I, no, a maid I'll live and die,
And to my vow be true.
Quoth Nell, the more fool you..
Quoth Nell, &c.

To my closet I'll repair,

And read on godly books,

Forget vain love and worldly care.

Quoth Nell, that likely looks.

You men are all perfidious,

But I will be religious,

Try all, fly all, and while I breathe defy all,

S

Your fex I now despise.

Says Nell, by Jove he lies.

Says Nell, &c.

SONG LXV.

Elinda fure's the brightest thing

That decks the earth, or breathes our air;

Mild are her looks like opening fpring,

And like the blooming fummer fair.

But then her wit's fo very fmall,
That all her charms appear to lie,

Like glaring colours on a wall,
And ftrike no further than the eye.

Our eyes luxuriously he treats,

Our ears are abfent from the feaft, One fenfe is furfeited with fweets,

Starv'd and difgufted are the reft.

So