PHILANDER and AMORET. I. WHen gay Philander fell a prize To Amoreta's conquering eyes, The bearded arrow from his breast. II. Come, gentle gales, the fhepherd cry'd, But as gales obfequious flew, With flow'ry fcents and fpicy dew, He did unknowingly repeat, III.. His pipe again the fhepherd try'd, IV. Since every fair and lovely view Convinc'd, the fad Philander cries, The W The WIT and the BEAU. I. Ith every grace young Strephon chofe That by the beauties of his face In Sylvia's love he might find place, II. With bows and smiles he did his part, A youth less fine, a youth of art, .III. With change of habits Strephon prefs'd, His love alone the other drefs'd, IV. This found, his courtship Strephon ends, There in himself now feeks amends, A beau is but an ass. The Nurfe's Song. Tune, Yellow Stockings. Ey! my kitten, a kitten, Such a sweet pett as this Is neither far nor neary : Here we go up, up, up; II. Chicky, cockow, my lily cock;; See, fee, fic a downy ; III. Where was a jewel and petty, Where was a fugar and fpicy; Hufh a baba in a cradle, And we'll go abroad in a tricy. Did-a pappa torment it? Did-e vex his own baby? did-e ?? Hush a bat a in a bosie ; Take ous own fucky: did-e? IV. Good-morrow, a pudding is broke ; Slavers a thread o' crystal, Now the fweet poffet comes up; Who faid my child was pifs'd all? Come water my chickens, come clock... Leave off, or he'll crawl you, he'll crawl you ;: Come, gie me your hand, and I'll beat him: V. Where was a laugh and a craw; Where was, was, was a gigling honey?! But naughty child fhall get nony. Get ye gone, raw-head and bloody-bones, Come, piffy, piffy, my jewel,, And ik, ik ay, my deary. The Who foal'd fhoes at Dubler, And lov'd to drink the juice of good barley; And then with his wife, As dear as his life, When drunk, he lov'd for to parley. This cobler, they say, Being drunk on a day, His wife fhe did murmur and chat; This cobler, they fay, Did thrash her that day, And cry'd, What a pox wad ye be at ? The parfon furpris'd, Did lift up his eyes: VI. Now help us, pray, Father, in need: And cry'd, What a pox wad ye be at ? VIII. Then the parfon did fkip, Five yards at a leap, From his pulpit quite down to the floor ; And left every faint, Quite ready to faint, Leaping out of the meeting-houfe door. Look'd Magpie quite full in the face, You thus to appear In this our fanctify'd place? But Magpie he pranc'd, XI. He skipp'd and he danc'd, And out of the meeting-house gat; And |