Амo, amas,
I love a Lass,
As a cedar tall and slender!
Sweet cowslips' grace
Is her Nom'tive Case;
And she 's of the Feminine Gender.
CHORUS. Rorum corum, sunt Divorum!
Harum scarum, Divo!
Tag rag, merry derry, periwig and hatband!
Hic, hoc, horum Genitivo!
Can I decline
A Nymph divine?
Her voice as a flute is dulcis!
Her oculi bright!
Her manus white!
And soft, when I tacto, her pulse is!
CHORUS. Rorum corum, sunt Divorum! &c.
O, how bella
Is my Puella!
I'll kiss secula seculorum!
If I've luck, Sir!
She's my Uxor!
O, dies benedictorum!
CHORUS. Rorum corum, sunt Divorum! &c.
I AM a Friar of Orders Gray;
And down the valleys I take my way!
I pull not blackberry, haw, or hip;
Good store of venison does fill my scrip!
My long bead-roll I merrily chant;
Wherever I walk, no money I want!
And why I'm so plump, the reason I'll tell;
Who leads a good life, is sure to live well!
What Baron, or Squire,
Or Knight of the Shire,
Lives half so well as a holy Friar?
After supper, of Heaven I dream;
But that is fat pullen and clouted cream!
Myself, by denial, I mortify
With a dainty bit of a Warden Pie!
I'm clothed in sackcloth, for my sin;
With old Sack wine, I'm lined within!
A chirping Cup is my Matin Song;
And the Vesper's bell is my Bowl, ding dong!
What Baron, or Squire, &c.
THERE was an old man, and, though 'tis not common;
Yet if he said true, he was born of a woman!
And, though 'tis incredible; yet I've been told,
He was once a mere infant, but age made him old!
Whene'er he was hungry, he longed for some meat!
And if he could get it, 'twas said, he would eat!
When thirsty, he'd drink! if you gave him a pot;
And his liquor most commonly ran down his throat!
He seldom, or ever, could see without light;
And yet I've been told, he could hear in the night!
He has oft been awake in the daytime, 'tis said;
And has fallen fast asleep, as he lay in his bed!
'Tis reported, his tongue always moved when he talked;
And he stirred both his arms and his legs when he walked!
His gait was so odd; had you seen him, you'd burst!
For one leg, or t'other, would always be first!
His face was the oddest that ever was seen;
For if 'twere not washed, it was seldom quite clean!
He showed his teeth most, when he happened to grin ;
And his mouth stood across 'twixt his nose and his chin!...
At last, he fell sick, as old Chronicles tell;
And then, as folks said, he was not very well!
But, what is more strange, in so weak a condition,
As he could not give fees, he could get no Physician!
What a pity he died! Yet, 'tis said, that his death
Was occasioned, at last, by the want of his breath!
But peace to his bones! which in ashes now moulder;
Had he lived a day longer, he'd been a day older!
YE little Loves! that round her wait
To bring me tidings of my fate,
As CELIA on her pillow lies,
Ah! gently whisper, 'STREPHON dies!'
If this will not her pity move,
And the proud Fair disdains to love, Smile, and say, "Tis all a lie!
And haughty STREPHON Scorns to die!'
FOR various purpose serves the Fan;
As thus, a decent blind,
Between the sticks, to peep at Man;
Nor yet betray your mind.
Each action has a meaning plain ;
Resentment 's in the Snap!
A Flirt expresses strong disdain!
Consent, a gentle Tap!
All Passions will the Fan disclose,
All modes of female art;
And sweetly to advantage shows
The hand-if not the heart!
'Tis Folly's sceptre, first designed
By Love's capricious Boy;
Who knows how lightly all Mankind
Are governed by a toy!
COME, all ye jolly Sailors bold,
Whose hearts are cast in Honour's mould,
While English glory I unfold,
Huzza to the Arethusa!
She is a Frigate tight and brave,
As ever stemmed the dashing wave!
Her men are staunch
To their fav'rite launch;
And when the foe shall meet our fire,
Sooner than strike, we'll all expire
On board of the Arethusa!
'Twas with the Spring Fleet she went out,
The English Channel to cruise about,
When four French Sail, in show so stout,
Bore down on the Arethusa.
The famed Belle Poule straight ahead did lie:
The Arethusa seemed to fly;
Not a sheet, or a tack,
Or a brace, did she slack!
Though the Frenchmen laughed, and thought it stuff; But they knew not the handful of men, how tough, On board of the Arethusa.
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