But now he lets't wear ony gate it will hing,
And caft himfell dowie upon the corn-bing.
But now he, &c.

IX.

And now he gaes drooping about the dykes,
And a' he dow do is to hund the tykes :
The live-lang night he ne'er fleeks his eye,
And were na my heart light, I wad die.
The live-lang, &c.

X.

Were I young for thee, as I hae been,

We fhou'd hae been galloping down on yon green,
And linking it on the lily-white lee ;

And wow gin I were but young for thee.
And linking, &c.

W

Kind ROBIN lo'es me,

ROBIN.

bofom prefs'd,

Hilft I alone your foul poffefs'd,
And none more lov'd your
Ye gods, what king like me was blefs'd,

When kind Jeany lo'ed me!

Hey ho Jeany, quoth he,

Kind Robin lo'es thee.

JEANY.

Whilft you ador'd no other fair,
Nor Kate with me your heart did share,
What queen with Jeany cou'd compare,

When kind Robin lo'ed me!

Hey ho Robin, &c.

ROBIN.,

Katy now commands my heart,

Kate who fings with fo much art,

Whofe life to fave with mine I'd part ;

For kind Katy loves me.

Hey bo Jeany, &c.

JEANY,

JEANY.

Paty now delights mine eyes,
He with equal ardour dies,
Whofe life to fave I'd perifh twice;
For kind Paty lo'es me.

Hey bo Robin, &c.

ROBIN.

What if I Kate for thee difdain,
And former love return again,
To link us in the strongest chain?
For kind Robin lo'es thee.

Hey bo Jeany, &c.

JEANY.

Tho' Paty's kind, as kind can be, And thou more ftormy than the fea, I'd chufe to live and die with thee, If kind Robin lo'es me.

Hey ho Robin, &c.

O my heavy Heart!

Tune of, The Broom of Cowdenknows.

I.

My heart, my heavy, heavy heart, Swells as 'twou'd burst in twain ! No tongue can e'er describe its smart ; Nor I conceal its pain..

II.

Blow on, ye winds, defcend, foft rains,

To footh my tender grief:

Your folemn mufic lulls my pain,
And yields me fhort relief.

O my heart, &c.

III.

In fome lone corner would I fit,

Retir'd from human kind;

Since mirth, nor fhow, nor fparkling wit,

Can ease my anxious mind.

C my
heart, &c.

Ff2

The

2

IV.

The fun which makes all nature gay,
Torments my weary eyes,

And in dark shades I pafs the day,
Where echo fleeping lies.

O my heart, &c.

V. I

The sparkling ftars which gaily fhine,
And glitt'ring deck the night,
Are all fuch cruel foes of mine,
I ficken at their fight.

O my heart, &c.

VI.

The gods themselves their creatures love,
Who do their aid implore;

O learn of them, and bless the nymph

Who only you adore.

O my heart, &c.

VII.

The strongest paffion of the mind,

The greatest blifs we know,

Arifes from fuccessful love,

If not the greatest wo.

O my heart, &c.

Bellafpelling.

I..

LL you that would refine your blood,

A As pure as fam'd Lewelling,

By water clear, come every year,
And drink at Bellafpelling.

Tho' pox or itch your fkin enrich
With rubies paft the telling,

'Twill clear your fkin, ere you have been
A month at Bellafpelling.

II.

Tho' ladies cheeks be green as leeks,
When they come from their dwelling,
The kindling rofe within them blows
While the's at Bellafpelling.

The

The futty brown just come from town,
Grows here as fresh as Helen;
Then back fhe goes to kill the beaux,
By dint of Bellafpelling.

III.

Our ladies are as fresh and fair
As Rofs or bright Dunkelling;
And Mars might make a fair mistake,
Were he at Bellafpelling.

We muft fubmit as they think fit,
And there is no rebelling;

The reafon's plain, the ladies reign
Our queens at Bellafpelling.

IV.

By matchlefs charms and conquering arms,
They have the way of quelling
Such defperate foes as dare oppose
Their power at Bellafpelling.

Cold water turns to fire, and burns,
I know't because I fell in

The happy ftream where a fair dame
Did bathe at Bellafpelling.

V.

Fine beaux advance, equipt for dance,
And bring their Anne and Nell in
With fo much grace, I'm fure no place
Can vie with Bellafpelling.

No politics, or fubtile tricks,

No man his country felling;

We eat and drink, and never think,
Like rogues at Bellafpelling.

VI.

The pain'd in mind, the puff'd with wind,

They all come here pell-mell in,

And they are fure to find a cure

By drinking Bellafpelling.

Tho' dropfy fill you to the gill,
From chin to toe high fwelling,

Pour in, pour out, you need not doubt

A cure at Bellafpelling.

Ff3

Death

VII.

Death throws no darts in these good parts,
No fextons here are knelling:
Come judge and try, you'll never die
While you are at Bellafpelling;
Except you feel darts tipt with fteel,
Which here are very belle in,
When from their eyes fweet ruin flies,
You die at Bellafpelling.

VIII.

Good cheer, good air, much joy, no care,
Your fight, your taste and fmelling,
Your ears, your touch, tranfported much,
Each day at Bellafpelling.

Within this bound we all fleep found,
No noify dogs are yelling,
Except you wake for Celia's fake
All night at Bellafpelling.

Here all you fee, both he and fhe,
Nołady keeps her cell in,
But all partake the mirth we make,
Who live at Bellafpelling.

My rhyme is gone, I think I've done,
Unless I fhou'd bring hell in;

But fince we're here to heaven fo near,
I can't at Bellafpelling.

The wandering Beauty.

I.

HE graces and the wandering loves
Are fled to diftant plains,

To chafe the fawns, or in the groves
To wound admiring fwains:"

With their bright miftrefs there they ftray,

Who turns their careless eyes

From daily victories; yet each day
Behold new triumphs in her way,
And conquers as she flies;

And

conquers, &c.

But