And tho' you go gay,

In Silks, as you may,

It is not the Highway to Heaven, (they fay) Repent, then repent ye for better for worse, And kifs not the Gallows for cutting a Purse. Youth, Youth, &c.

SONG CCCLXXI. There was, &c.

Here was an old Woman that had but one
Son,

THe

Yet fain a Landlord he would be.

With a fadariddle la, fa la da riddle la, fa la la fa la la re.

And as he was going Home,

He met his old Mother upon the High-way; O Mother, quoth he,

Your Bleffing grant me,

Thus the Son to the Mother did say.
With a fa, &c.

I ha' begg'd Butter-milk all this long Day,
But I hope I fhan't be a Beggar long;
For I've more Wit come into this Pate,
Then e'er I had when I was young.
With a fa, &c.

This Butter-milk I will it fell,

A Penny for it I fhall have, you shall fee; With that Penny I will buy me fome Eggs, And I fhall have seven for my Penny. With a fa, &c.

And those seven Eggs I'll fet under a Hen, Perhaps feven Cocks they may chance for to be; And when thofe feveh Cocks are seven Capons, There will be feven Half-Crowns for me. With a fa, &c.

But as he was going Home,
Accounting up of his Riches all;
His Foot it stumbled against a Stone,
Down came Butter-milk, Pitcher and all.
With a fa, &c.
CHORUS.

His Pitcher was broke, and bis Eggs were dif
patch'd:

This 'tis to count Chickens before they are

batch'd.

With a fa, &

SONG CCCLXXII. The Kirk wad let me be.

I

Was anes a well-tocher'd Lafs,
My Mither left Dollars to me
But now I'm brought to a poor Pass,
My Step-dame has gart them flee,
My Father he's aften frae hame,

And the plays the Deel with his Gear 3
She neither has Lateth nor Shame,
And keeps the hale House in a Steer.
She's barmy-fac'd, thriftless, and bauld,
And gars me aft fret and repine ;
While hungry, haff naked, and cauld,
I fee her destroy what's mine;
But foon I might hope a Revenge,
And foon of my Sorrows be free,
My Poorteth to Plenty wad change,
If he were hung up on a Tree.
Quoth Ringan, who lang Time had loo
This honny Lafs tenderly,

I'll take thee, fweet May, in thy Snood
Gif thou wilt gae hame with me.
"Tis only your Sell that I want,

Your Kindness is better to me,
Than a' that your Sterther, feant
Of Grace, now has taken frae thes

I'm but a young Farmer it's true,
And ye are the Sprout of a Laird ;
But I have Milk-cattle enow,

And Rowth of good Rucks in my Yard,
Ye fall have naithing to fash ye,

Sax Servants fhall jouk to thee:
Then kilt up thy Coats, my Laffie,
And gae thy Ways hame with me.
The Maiden her Reafon employ'd,
Not thinking the Offer amifs,
Confented; while Ringan o'erjoy'd,
Receiv'd her with mony a Kifs.
And now the fits blythly fingan,
And joking her drunken Step-dame,
Delighted with her dear Ringan,

That makes her Good-wife at hame.

SONG CCCLXXIII. Belinda's, &c.

B

See Beauty triumphs in her Face: Her Charms fuch lively Rays difplay, They kindle Darkness into Day!

When the appears, all Sorrow flies, And Gladness fparkles in our Eyes: Around her wait the flutt'ring Loves, When graceful in the Dance the moves.

SONG CCCLXXIV. Tis now,

T

IS now fince I fat down before

That foolish Fort a Heart,

(Time ftrangely fpent) a Year and more, And fill I did my Part:

Made my Approaches, from her Hand

Unto her Lip did rife

And did already understand

The Language of her Eyes.

Proceeded on with no lefs Art,

My Tongue was Engineer

I thought to undermine the Heart
By whifp'ring in the Ear.

When this did nothing, I brought down
Great Cannon Oaths, and fhot
A thoufand thousand to the Town,
And ftill it yielded not.

I then refolv'd to ftarve the Place,
By cutting off all Kiffes,
Praifing and gazing on her Face,
And all fuch little Bliffes.

To draw her out, and from her Strength,
I drew all Batteries in,
And brought myself to lie at length,
As if no Siege had been.

When I had done what Man could do,
And thought the Place mine own,
The Enemy lay quiet too,

And fmil'd at all was done.

I fent to know from whence, and where,
Thefe Hopes, and this Relief:

A Spy inform'd, Honour was there,
And did command in Chief.

March, march, (quoth I,) the Word ftraight give, Let's lofe no Time, but leave her:

That Giant upon Air will live,

And hold it out for ever.

To fuch a Place our Camp remove,
As will no Siege abide;
I hate a Fool, that farves her Love,
Only to feed her Pride.

SONG CCCLXXV. Lonely, &c.

Lonely Groves, young Straphon chungs

There t'indulge his am'rous Mufing,
Love augments, while Love he blames
Cruel Love! you caufe my Anguish,
Thus with Care I pine and languish,
Thus confume amid your Flames,

defpair at Celia's Frowning;

When the weeps, in Tears I'm drowning,
Smiles give pleafing Pains at beft.
Love, who heard the Youth upbraid him,
Conscious of his Prefence made him,
And his Godhead thus expreft:
While you speak of Pains and Dying,
Soothing Rapture you're enjoying;
My foft Empire's built on Sighs:
When those anxious Cares are over,
Soon you lose the Name of Lover:
Love infipid grows, and dies.

SONG, CCCLXXVI. Iris, &c.

RIs on a Bank of Thyme,

With a Sigh, and weeping Eye,

Said to lovely Celamine,

Let not Men your Heart furprize,
Men are all compos'd of Lies.
Tho' a thousand Oaths they fwear,
And as many Vows repeat;
All they fwear, is common Air,
All they promife, but Deceit :
Man was never conftant yet.
Wifely then preserve your Heart
From the Tyranny of Fate;
For only they can act their Part,
When Love has its Return of Fate
Then Repentance comes too late.

SONG CCCLXXVII. Tell me, &c.
ELL me, Sileno, why you fill
With fancied Woes your Life?
Why's all your Time expended still,
In thinking, or in talking ill,
Of your too virtuous Wife?

For, Faith, I can't fee to what End
You keep her up so close ;