Full Citation

  • Title The Songster's pocket book, or Jubilee concert. Being a choice collection of the newest and most favourite songs that has been sung at the stratford Jubilee, the play-houses, and the public gardens
  • Imprint London : Printed for, and sold by the booksellers of London and Westminster, MDCCLXX. [1770].
  • Pages 83
  • Language English
  • Microfilm Reel # 16800
  • Physical Description vii,[1],76p. ; 12°
  • ESTC Number N37159
  • Source Library Bodleian Library, University of Oxford
1~5~~Y~I i-i- i·-:ur;: ·.~i- ;.F ;·.. :·~ n1 ~S~ig~ .. . rt Y· ~R· ·1 ~ "·. . d i ·h ~5::· '' c r ;;; "~"·!"~ ~;a ·N:C 31 I' ,. bP ~ec: ~'~ ·· !·r·: it" ~L'?I·~i ri -·. ~~G$;thrr Qs ~ ,·, ·1·:-= JOBIhp~i3~~ rs~ "? ~~U~d:~ie Pv~Lrc~~i3LZ~~d -? ·~c~~·"·'~r·-~r ·i·.-~t-~ I.tll -- - 'i" ~~- '· a nr t i '"~'' ~ '' L· ~ ' ' '1'9 '`''' '"' .r :LI "'"~i .. ;I- -1 . ~ ··ii -t ; .i -·.:;;z .J : ·.·:~·~' (C ·J· ~;. ?·I: s:·~~:I·~-- ·r·l ri: :::~;::: A ::I: ~bt~~td~ ··.: ; U r: r. ; P';',4h, r :: p;a-.; L: ; .~ li~l~' ,;;~;~; :: Songiter's Pocket Book r O .R, 13: Mouse~i AD se"SS to the LAnzas;, At th~e Jubilee in lbroulr of the Birthj Day of Shatterpear. LTbeauty with the ion rrife, To Shakelpr tribute 3ayJ, With heavenly smiles and sparkling ey-es, Giv~e Juare to the day. Eacht mile the giv-es proteas hlis n~ame, Wihat face ihaill dare to frowin ? Not enlvy's se~lf can blaff the fame, Wihich beautyr deigns to crown. SONG IiARW·ICKSHIRE. By 11/r. G------- ,Y6E Warwick~lire lads, and yelal~es, Setwha atourJubilee paires, Come revel away, recjoice and be glad, (2) For the lad of all lads was a Warwickshire lad, ~Warwickshire lad, All be glad, For the lad of all Jads was a Warwicksh~ire lad. Be proud of the charms of your county, W'here nature has lavilh'd her bounty. Where much fbe has given, and fame to be I'par'd, For the bard of all bards was a Warwickshire bard, W'arwickfhire bard, Never pair'd, For the bard of all bards was a Warwickshire bard. Each thire has its different pleasures, Each thire has its different treasures : But to rare W~arwickfThire they all muff iabmit, For the wit of all wits is a Warwickshire wit. Warwickshire wit, How he writ 1 For the wit of all wits, was a Warwickshire wit. Old Ben, Thomas Otway, John Dryden. And half a icore more we take pride in, Of famous Will Congrev~e, we boait too the sk~ill, But the Will of all Wills was a Warwickshire Will, Warwickshire Will. Matcch~ler flill, For the Wi~ill of all H ills, was a Warwickshire W ill. Our Shakeifear compar'd is to no man, No0r Frenchmans, nor Grecian, nor Roman; Their fivans are all geese, to the Avon's fiveet f \a n, And And the man of all men, was a Warwvicklhire man, WarwickThire man, Avon' swan, And the man of all men, was a Warwickifhire man. As ven'~on is very inviting, To fleal it he took great delight in, To make his friends merry he never was lag, And the wag of all wiags, was a Wiarwickfhire wag, Warwickshire wag, Ever brag, For the wag of all wags, was a Warwicklhire wag. There never w as reen such a creature, Of all she was worth, he robb'd nature ; He took all her smiles, and he took all her grief, And the thief of all thieve~s, was a Warwicklhire thief, Warwickshire thief, He's the chief, For the thief of all thieves, was a Warwickshire thief. S ON G. Chorus from the Church. T HTS is the day, a holliday i a holliday 1 This is the day, a holliday ! a hollid. y ! Drive care and iorrow far away. Here Nature nurs'd her darling boy, From whom all care and Ar(row fly, Whole harp the Muse~s firung; Bs From (4 9, Fronv~be~art to heart, let joy rebound,- N~ow, now, we tread enchanted ground, Ilere Shakeipeare walk'd and sung1 S ON G. S HAR E S P eA A as UL v~Be RRaY-TRE 5 . Sungii T*Ith a GrO in his Hand awdek of the free.~; BEHOLD this fair go~blet 'twas carv'd from; the tree, Whkichs O my weet Shakefpear, was planted by thee : As a relick I kiss it, and bow at the thrine, Whiat comecs from thy Hand muf be ever divine! . All thall yield to the Miulberry tree, BEnd tor thee~, Blest M~ulberry. Mal~tchlefs was he .Whbo planted thee, And tholi like him immortal be i Ye trees of the sores1, to rampant and high, W~ho [pread round their: bs~anchies, whos~e heads tweep the sky ; Ye curious extoics, whorn talle has brought; here To root out the natives, at prices to dear, All shall yield to the Mulbery-tree, &c. The oak is held i-oyal, is Brittain's great boait, Prteferv'd one' our king, and will always our! conif ; But of Eir we make ships, we hav~e thon~fands that fight, While one, only one, like our Shakerpear can· All flall yield to the Mlulberry-tree, &crte Let: Let Venuls delig~ht in her gay myrtle bowrerd, Pomona in fruit-trees, aind Flora in flowers, The garden of Shakefpear all fancies will faiit, With the [wveerHE~ of flowerrs, and faireit of fruit. All thall yeild- to the Melberry-tree, &c. ~With learning and knowledge the well latter'd birch, Supplies law and p~hysic, and! grace for he- church; But law and the Gorpel in Shakefpear we fimd. And he gives the best phyfac for body and mind. All fall yield to the Mulberry-tree, &~c. The fame of the Patron gives fame to, the tree, From him and his merits this takes its degree; Let Phaebus and Bacchus their glories resign, Our tree i1iall furpars both the laurel and vine, All thall yield to the Mul'berry-tree, &cC. The genions of Shakeifpear outlhines the briglht day, Mlore rapture than wine to the heart can convey, So the tree which he planted, by making his own, Has laurel, and bays, and the vine all in one. All thall yield to the Mulberry-tree, ke-. Then each take a relick of this hallow'd tree, From folly and fashion a charm let it be a Fill si11 to the planter, the cafp to the brim, To honour the country, do honour to him. All thall yield to the Mul~berry-tree, Bend to thee, Blest Mulbherry, Matchless was he Who yilantied thee, And than like him immortal be i Bs SbON G (6) SONrG. R OUNI~ D E LA F'or t~bs 'fabileP, in Honour o~ S hak e pear. By M~r. J--1---. - STER S o~f thle tuneful firain! Attend your parents jocund train, ' Tis fancy calls you, followr me, To celebrate our jubikse. On Alven's banks, where Shakefp~ear's butf Points out, and guards his Deeping cult, . Tfhn sons of feenic mirth decree To celebrate this jab~ike. By Garrick led, the grateful band, Hate to their poets native land, With rites of fpor;:ve revelry, To cek~brate· hls jolele.. Come daughters then, a nd w~ith you bring T~he vocal reed, and @rr;ghtly ;ring, W~it, and joke, and repartee,, To cekcbrate our jlabike~. Comie, daug~hters, corme andl 'erfng wth; you Th' aerial TFpite, and felry crew, And the fi~fkr g~races three, To cekcbrate our jubilree. Hang around the fculptur J tomb The broider'd vell, thre nodding plume, And the mafkr of comic gkee, To celebrate our jubilee. From BIirnam wood, and Botlworth's field, Bring the flandard, bring theihield, W'ith drums, and martial lymphony, To celebrate this j ubilee. (7) In mournful numbers now relate Poor Defdlemona's hapless face, With frantic deeds of jealoury, To celebrate our jubilee Nor be Windfor's wives forgot. With their harmless, merry plot, The wthit'ning mead and haunte~d tree, 'To celebrate our jubilee. Now in jocond firains recite, The revels of the ;: aggar'd K~night, Fat Knight!i and ancient Piftlul he! T'o celebrate our j ubilee. But fee, in crowds, the gay, the fair, TIo the fplended feene repair, A icene as fine, as fine can be, To celebrace our jublee. R:~ Colin bring, and Roillind, Each thepherd true, and dadrel kind, For well wlith ours. their sports agree, To crown the festive jolbilee. S ON G. Chorus for thjE PACAN-r at Stratford. By 11Ir. B--- HE NC E, ye prophane ! and only they. Our pageant grarce, our pomp survey, Whom love of ficted genius brings, Let pride, let flattery decree, Honourls to deck the memory Of warriors, senators, and kings--- Not less in glory, and desert, The poet here receives his part, A tribute from thee feeling hearc. SON G, S ON G, ACATC H. By Mr. ~--· N Y M, Pillol, and Bardolph, with merry old~ck One siorning made rport for their ppupil Prince Harry; W~hen Falftaffcry'd out for a bumper o~fSack, To Quickly, his hollers; and bid her not tarry a Ah!I ah I cry'd the P~rince, honell boy is it fd I Trhe wheels of your wit mulft be oil'd as they go, S ON G. fbe C OU N TR Y G I R L A ComeC SERENlATA. By Mr. G-- ,-- R E C IT A T I VO. R IT HEE tell me, confin Sue, SWhy they make to much to do, Why all this noise and clatter ? Why all this hurry, all this buf~e, Lawi how they croud, and bawl and jostle, I cannot gues~s the matter. . P or whom must all this pather be i The Emperor of Germane; Or Great Mogul is coming; Such eating, drinking, dancing, Aiging, Such cannon firing, bells a ringing, Such trumpeting, and drummmng I A I R. All this for a poet--O no--- `Who liv'd lord knows how long ~ag How can yorujeer one+ How ( 9 ) How can yeao fleer ene, A poet, a poet, O no,--- 'Tis not so, Who liv'd lord knows how long ago: It: must be some great man, A prince, or iome-ftate-man, It can't be a poet---0 no ; Your poet is poor, And nobody sure. Regards a poor.poet I trow`: , The rich ones we prize, Send 'emn up to the akies. But not a poor1 poet-0 no- Who liv'd lord knows how long ago. R E C T ATIZV O. Yet now I call to mind, Our learned dottor boasted, Orie Sh~ikfpur did.os all mankind, Receive from heav'n the most head-- That he could wonders do, And did 'em o'er and o'er, Rlaire [pri:es, .and lay 'em too. The like ne'er seen before. A conjurer was he ! Who with a pen in hond, Had earth, and air, and sea, Arrd all things at commaund, AI R. O'er each heart he was ruler, Mad~e 'em warmer or coolet, Could make 'em laugoh.or to cry ; What we lo-k'd in our brealls, Tho' as close as in cheits. Was not hid from the Cn~jurer's ey~e Tho' ( to ) Tho' fins I have none I am glad he is gone, No maid could live near such a mon. If he saw ye, he knew ye, Would look thro' and thro' ye, Thro' okin, and your flesh, and your Cloaths Had you vanity, pride, Fifty follies beside, He would ~ee 'em as plain as your nose; Tho' fins I have none, I am glad he is gone, No maid would live near foch a mon. Let us sing it, and dance it. Rejoice it, and prance it, That no rnon has now such an art; What would come of us all, Both the great ones and fm all, Should he live to peep now in each heart. Tho' %ins I have none, I am glad he is gon~e, No maid could live near folch a mon. S ON· G. SWEET * W1LLYO. By M'r. G-- : T Epride of all nature was [weet Willy O, 7 he first of all (wains, He gladden'd the plains, None ever was like to fwteet Willy O, He sung it so rarely did [weet Willy O, He melted each maid, So Ik~ilfull he play'd, No thepherd e'cr pip'd like the iweet Willy O, A~l ( r All Nature obey'd him, this fiveet Willy O, WCherever he came, Whate'er had a name, Whenever he sung follow'd fiveet Willy O, He wou'd be a t soldier this rweet Willy O, When arm'd in the field, With iword and with ihield. The laurel was won by the iweet Willy O, He charm'd 'em when living, the sweet Willy O, And when Willy dy'd, 'Twas NJature that figh'd, To part wrth her all in her rweet Willy O, * Sharkepear. t Writer of Tragedy1. SO N G. The Drmamaic Rayce AC ATC H. By a LorLEr of' the Tfugr CLAR, clear the courfe--make roon-- make room I fay! Now they are oft, and Jobh/on makes the play. I'll bett the odds-done: fr, with you and you; Sihakefpear keeps near him--and he'll win it coo : Here's even money--done for a hundred, done- Now Johnson ! nowv, or never--he as won. I'll take my oach. that Shakefpear wton the prize-- Damme ! whoever says he loft it, lies. SON.G A GLE E. Ey Dr. M------ CME. nymps and fawns, wuhere'er ye be, To this your Father's Juoiilee, With tivy, tivy, tivy~-tivie, ti. Come ( s ) Come elves, and fade~s, in a rew. And if ybu ever su~ng, sing now, With a row-dow, row ridow, dow. Ev'n Carliban, tho' void of art, With groling bare, thall bear a part. With a Ban, Ban, Cacaliban. S ONr G. RA TL no more, ye learned nifes, ' Gainft the joy the bowl Aupplies : Sound its depth. and fill your glaires, WiCdom at the bottom lies : Fill 'em higher still, and higher ; Shallow dranghts perplex the brain; Sipping qjuenches all our fire, Bumpers light it up again. Draw the (cene for wit and plearure, Enter jollity and joy ; We for thinking have no leikure, ·Manly mirth is our employ : Since in life there's nothing certain. We'll the prdent~r hour engage:; And, when Death th~ll drop the curtain, With applaure we'II quit the flage. S ON G. Thle Words and M~uj~ by Dr. Arne. Sung by~ Mrs. Pinto, N YMPHS and thepzherds, come away, 1 Wanton in the tweets of May Tirip it o'er the flow'ry lawns, Wanron as the bounding thawns : Frol~e, buxomn, blythe, and ga,Rl N~ymphs and thecpherds, come rraway 'Tbs PEIL G·RI Mi. From the origindf 'IT'ruALI. IN penance for pall folly, SA pilg;rim blithe and jolly, Sworn fee to melancholy. Set ou't firange lands to fee, With cockle shells on hat brim, Staff beads, and icrip, in that crim, Beliting of a pilgrim, Begging for charity. With feet ad~hoed be traces, His way through wilds and chaces, And sundry difmnal places, In hopes some roof to fee s But when that he could find no 11oute nor hot to _go _to, Was ever poor pilgrim put to To it for charity. But now, when most dejeaed, Kind Heaven, when, least expeated A maiden's iteps direaed, Whence come you fir ? said the. Full many a weary itep tweet, And all on these poor bare feet, O could i, by your help, meet Lodgin~g, for charity. With courteous voice and necent, Says the, I fee, you're quite (Tpent, Yet what I fay is well meant, Pray lodge to night with me. This favour isexcellive. Nofpeeches, Sir, whilst Ilive, If I have ought ( can give, 'Tis given in charity. He ey'd her charms whilst eating, And call'd her love and fiveeting, w ith many a tender greeting, So kind a heart had he. Kind Sir, lays the, you're tired, ''Tis time you were retired, Nor bed nor rooms are hired, slut lent in charity. My tenement is brittle, And is, I fear, too little, so in at once went he. TThrough many a town and city I've been, and O ! the pity, Ner'er met a room lo pretty, Nor so mzuch charity. N'ihe day·s he past in clover, So well he play'd the lover, She thought 'twas too soon ov~er, And will you go i said the: But, gentle pilgrim, thou'd you Return, you know, I woulddo As much as woman could do, Ta thew my charity. S ON G. CoL I r's COM PLAIN T. DERChlor, wthillt thus beyond Mealmre, You treat me with Doubts and dildain, You rob all your Youth of its Pleasure, And board up an Old-Age of Pain: ~Your Maxim, that Love is still founded, On Charms that will quickly decay, $'ou'll find to be very ill grounded, Wirhen once you its Di~tates obey. The The Pa~ioin, from Beauty firi drawn Your KIindnels will valily improve; Soft Smiles and gay tooks are the Dawn, Fruition's the Sun-shine of Lov·e : And tho' the bright Beams of your Eyes, Should be clouded, that nowv are to gay, And Darkness pof~eis all the Skcies, We ne'er can forget it was Daiy. Old Darby. with 'foan by his Side, Youl've often regarded w·ith Wonder : He's dropfical, the is fore-tyl'd ; Yet they're ever uneaiy aiunder: Together they totter about, Or lit in the Sun at the door, And. at Night when old Darby~'s Pot's out, His 'foan will not imoak a Whiff more. No Beauty or Wit they pofild~s, Their leveral Failngs to smother; Then what are the Charms, can you guess, That make them 10 fond of each other I 'Tis the plearing R emembrance of Youth, The Endearments that Love did bellow : The Thougfhts of past Pleasure and Truth, Arethe b~el of all Blessings below. Thole Traces for ever will 1aft, Which Sickneis nor Time can remove ; For whlen Youth and Beauty are past, And Age brings the Winter of Love, A Friendihip intenbfibe grows ; By Reviews of (uch Raptures as these, The Current of Fondnels Hill flows, Which decripid Old-Age cannot freeze. C a S ONr G, SO N G. 14B / HE ihty~ Road BWef was the Englib. It enabled our Veins, and enriched our Blood ; Ou r lsold iers were bra ve a nd o ur C'ourtierJ were good: () the Rout beecf a' old Ere~lanfd! And Old1 Eqigh Roat Reef ! But, since we have lcarnt from all conquering Frants, Toc cat their Ragouts. as well1 as to dance, Wlc're fed up with~ nothing--but vain C~omplailance: O the Road Beef, 0'. Ofur F~athers of old were robutt flout, and strong. And kept open Houle w·ith good Cheer all Day long, W`hic h illade thlier plump T'enants rejoice in this Song O the Roadt Bcrt, Or. But now we are dwindled to -w-hat thall Icame A ineaking poor Race hll begotten,--and tame, W: ho fully those Honours that~once those in Fame : O the Roast Beef, S3c. W~hen rcood Quecen Elbzabeth fat on the Throne, E~'( r C'orce, or Tear, or Coch .ilip-fllops we're known, '1 i?: \\'(:! · i; 7·in Terror, if e cr the: did frown: O> the Roall Sc. f, CO'c. in tholre Days, if Flee.rtS did perfume on the Main, 'I he-y fldoml or nev·er return'd backi again: As i= itnds~, the vauntin~g Armada of Span:n O the Roa'1 Ceef, Wfrr. Oh!i then they had Stomachr me at nd to ~ght, And, w hen Hearr~~ pswr~e a cooking,) to do themselves right ; Eut now we're a--- I could--but good Night : O the Roall Berf of Old Enga/nd!. And Old Eng/qb RoaLt Beef ! SON G. ( r7 ) YOUN G Colin fought my H-eart to win, A~nd woo'd as Lovers woo ; I, vers'd in all our Sex's Art, Did julI as Maidens do: What'er he'd 1Cigh, whit'er he'd vow, I'd fludy to be thy at And when he prels'd hiis Fate to know, 'Twas prithee. Fool, be quiet, 'Twas prithee Fool, be quiet. Month after Month of am'rous Pain, He made a mighty Fuss : Why, if, you know, one loves a Swain, 'Tis wrong to lay one does : He told me, PaiTon could not live, Without more pleafingr Diet ; And pray what Antiver tould I give, But prithee, Fool be quiet But prithee, Fool be quiet. At length he made a bold Ess~ay, And, like a Man, he cry d Thy· Hand, my dear; this very Day, Shall Cehra be my Bride ! Convinc'd he would have teaz'd me fillI, I cou'd not well deny it; And now, believe me, w·he~n I w ill, I make the Fool be quiet. I make the Fool be quiet. S ON G;. OFall the iimple Things I do, To rub o'er a whimsical L~ife, There's no one Volly is to trne. As that very bad Bargain a Wlife . C S ( S We're just like a Mnode in a Trap, Or Vermin caught in a Gin ? Welfweat, and fret, and try to ekcape, And curse the fad· Hour we came in. I gam'd and drank, an~d play'd the Fool, And a thourand mad Frolicks more; I rov'd and rang'd, derpis'd all Role, But I ne'er was marry'd before: This was thd' worit Plague could edfue: I am mew'd in a fmoaky Houre: I us'd to tope a Bottle or two; But 'now 'tis Tmall Beer with my Spodea. My darling Freedom town'd my Joys J I never was vex'd in my Way : If now I cross her Will, her Noise, Mcakes my Lodging too hot for to day:t Like a Fox that is hamper'd, in vain, I fret out my Hear t and my Soul ; Walk to and fro, the Length of my Chain, Then am forq'd to creep into my Hole. S ON G. HOPE : if fooral. &7; ~rJly Mr Arne. Y' Peaks tlhey are furnown'd with Bees, 1B ~ Whole: MSuraser invites one to leep ; My CGrottosaw2 thaded with Trees, And my Hills are white-over waith Sheep:.i I fid~iom havec met with a Loss, Sulch H-ealth, do my: Fountains belton; My Irountalns all border'd with Mois, 'here the H-are bells and Violets growv, Where the H-are-bells asd Violen· g-ow. Not a Pdue in my Grove is there Teen, But with Tendrils of Woobine is bound a Not a Beech's more beautiful green, But a Sweet briar twines it around : NTot my Fieldp, in the prime of the Year, More Charms than my Cattle-unfold a Not a Brook that is limped and clear, But it glitters with FiLhes of Gold, But it glitters, ZMc. One would think the might like to retire, To the Bow'r I labour'd to rear ; Not a Shrub that I heard her admire, But I halled and planted it there : Oh ! how sudden the Jeffamine firove, With the Lilac to render it gay ! Already it calls for my Love, To prune thne wild Branches away, T'o prune, We. ·From the Plains, from the Woodlands and Groves, W~hat Strains of wild Melody flow ! Howv the Nightingales warble their L~oves Frdm Thickets of Rofeis that blow ! And, when her bright Form thall appear Each Bird tfhall harmoniolly join In a Concert to soft and To clear, As-tfhe may not be fond to resign, As----he may, M~c. I have found a Gift for my Fair:; I have found where Wood-lpidgeons breedr But let me that Plunder forbear s She'll lay 'rwa~s a barbarous Deed : For he ne'er cou'd be true the aver'd, Who could rob. a Bird of its yotnag I lov'd her the rincre, when I heard, Such Tenderners fall from her Tongue, Such Tcaderners, G'c. I halve ( 0) I have heard her with Sweetners unfold, How that Pity was due to--a dove; That it ever attcnde~d the bold ; Alnd the call'd; it te Sille~r of Love: But her Wocrds (uIch a !'lcaklae convey, So much I her Aiccents adore. Let 1.ler :p~ ;k, and, wihatever (h~e ay, Meth:nu_ ; floruld love: her the more, Melthod ls; U<. Can a Befo-n to ~cntle remain Unmor'(: , wheL' her CoT) don sighs ? W'ill ai Nymph. that is fondi of the Plain, TIhere· !lains aInd this V'alley delpile ? Dear Regions of ilecnce andl Shade ! Soft SceneJ of Contentme-nt and Eale W'here I could have pleaiingly ilray'd, if ought in her Absence, cou'd pleaie, If ought, Mc. But w here does myr Phillida fira)y ? And where are he~r Grots and her Bow'rs ?~ Arc the Gtroves and the Valley s as gay, And the Shepherds as gentle, as ours ? The Groves may perhaps be as f air, And the Face of the Valley·s as fine s The Swa~ins may in Manners compare ; But their Love is not epeal to m~ine, But their Love is not equalro mine. S O N G. TO hun bright Sol's meridian Heart, Belrnda fought a cool Retreat, Beneath a fragrant Grove ; Where twining Branches from the Shade, The moss~y Floor with Flow'rs inlaid; A proper Place for Love. Beneath ( 2! I Beneath the Thicket of the Grove, A thatr Stre~am does gently move. Gic es freflmeris to the G~lade ; Upon the flow'ry Bank reclin'd, Ja carelefrs Indolecl~e of Mlind. TIhe binomling tEair w\as laid. A Blush o'erlp~read her lovely Face, W~hildt Boy·s like Cuprds giuard the Place, And F~an her wCith their lrings ; Her fr2grant Breath perfum'd the Alir, All Nature then did gay appear, Each ferather'd W~rblecr iings. The wanton Zephyrs round her play'd, Refiething Breezes cool the Maid, Opprel! with balmy Sleep; The Beauties of her [nowy Bread,, Like C'luffers courting to, be i'reft, Let Love a Secret keep. Less Fair the Paphian Queen appear'd, H hen fromt the watry Bed th~e rear'd, With Majelty devine; Refulgent Beauty· dazlin~g bright, With Won~er rriz d my ac hiing Sight, 1 gaz'd and with'd her mine. S ON G. Sre by 111. Worgan, Sung at Y'auxhall. TELL me, Lasses havre you seen, Lately w·and'ring o'er the Green, BEcauty's Son, a little Boy, Full of Frolic, M~irth, and Joy ? If you kn~ow his Shelter. fay; Fle's from YcenUs gone astray·. T-ell me, L~asses, have you seen, Such a one trip o'er the Green ? By ( zz ) By his Marks the God you'll know : Oe'r his Shoulder hangs a 80w, And a quiver fraught with Darts, Poison, sure to humlan H-earts : Tho' he's naked, little, blind, He can triumph o'er the Mind. Tell me, Lasses, have you seen, Such a one trip o'er the Green ? Subtile as the Light'ning's Wound, 1s his piercing Arrow found : While the Bolom a Herut it pains, No external Marks Iemains: Reafon's Shield irrelf is broke, By the unfurpelled ,'trok~e, Tell me, Lasses, have You1 seen, Such a one trip o'er the Green I Oft the Urchin's reen to lie Balking in the funny Eye s Or his deftin'd Prey he seeks, On the Maiden's roly C'heeks : Snowy Brealth, or curling Hair, Oft conceal the pleasing wnare. Tell me. Lalks, have you seen, Such a one trip o er the Green ? She that Recers reveals, Where the God himself conceals, Shall a Kirs receive this Night. From her Hear ts supreme D~elight : To F~enus let her bringr the Boy·, Plhe Ihaill tate Love's f\weetelt joy. Tell me Laites, have you seen, Such a one trip o'er the G reen 3 S ON G S ON G. fb~nC BaORcHLO CHOICE. Se~t y I. 11. I F ever Oh ! Hym~en y·ou grant me a Wife, Let this be her I'ortrait, theill hold me tar Life, Youth, Beauty. Good-nature, avcrfe to C'onceit Her Sense quice r:Gul'd, and in Ierrion quite neat. E'd have her with I·rudence be chrarful and free, N'or referv'd Ilke a D~rone, or at :calt not to me, Obliged and eaiy, complaint with SmlesZ, M/lilkad by no Passions, allur d by no Wd1es. Ifthe Fair I deferibe, in the lIle can be found, For no other I'll wed, if I feacrchi the WVorld round, When fummon'd by HymePn [1~ gladly away, To hear the soft Yromile to Love and obey. SO0N G1 TheDESPAIRIhc CLOVERL. INCbloe's Frowns I read my Fate, Her Eyes obdDfar Each Afl5ion thews her rooted Hate, O ! Pain too great to bear. When I in Tears fall at her Feet, She'll not one Look afford, N~or all the Torments I repeat, Can gain one tender Word. Since Cblot,s Love, alas ! I know, It is In Vain to crave Her Pity, may one W~ord beflow, And dying Damon save. Ye Lovers happy with the Fair, O ' teach me all your Art, That I to Joy may change my Care, And gain my Chblor's Heart. SON G. (~ 2 . ) IS O NE G. Bread and Cbser/ and Kiges. L A S T Time I saw my Cbbe'~cs Eyes, SAs dlual firlt our T'alk was rLove s But Auddenly as Topicks rife,. So we to other Subjefts move, I afk'di if ahe had din'd on what, For nought with as amiss is; She to my Qgueftion anfwer'd pat. On Bread and Chees~e and Kifes. Now could you think I'm jealous grown, SIndeed 'tis ·true as I am here, But yet on me the ne'er did frown, Then Rival· i've no need to ·fear; Yet Mtill alas. i 'twould pierce my.Breaft, IE ought I've done amiss is : To makesher~wid~i another Feast. On Bread and Cheese? and Ki~es. Come Hymen, G~od of Nuptial' Band. And light to hymeneal Bliss, I have a heart I have a Hand ·; A Dowry good, .'llgive her there. What is m~ore Choice, than Tr~uth to give, To that all Wealth a-mits is i Poffers'd ofher Content I'd live, On Bread and Cheese and Kisses. S ON G. 'The MA x na wsCa oz c a. Set by R. L. IF ever, oh i Hymnen I add to thy Trbe, SLet such be my Partner my IMide lhall dercibe, Notin Party tophigh, nor in Sgmtuetoolow, Not the least of a Clown nor too mech of;a,1)eigg(· 'Be his Person genteel, and engaging 6 Air, 'His Temper Htill yielding, his joul too sincere, But a Depe to his Pallion 'gainti Reason to move; But kind to the fiveetefit in the Padlion ofLove. Let HEonour, 'commendable Pride in the Sex, His Attions dire£1, and his Principles fix; ~o Groundl~ers jurpician mut he ever formize, Nor Jealously read· every Look in my Eyes. If foch a blelt Youth thould approve of my Charms, And no.tho~ught of rintereit his Bofiom alarms ; Then in Wedlock I'll join wvith a mutual Desire, And Prudence thall cherifn the wavering V~ire. Thus Timre shall glide on unerceiv'd in DecaR, Each Night thall, be blirfafl and happy each Day : Suchl aartncnr gprancefavsen, with myi~ray'r. comply!· Or a Maid let mle hlve, and a Maid let me die. SuNlg ih.' Mi/i Stevedlon ae l'auxhall. A L EX I S a pre'tty yOUng Swai~n. To court me comes many Mile ; L~bta liim mhl'ke halle ~a~ck againr T[he'I [with him to thy~ a grea:t wh~ile; *With, all by whrich Lonve is exprett, SHe ftindiest~ my Heart to begunIl I with him Slrccels ·I rprcef!), B'ut I cell him he'll---' wai a grea whil He broughrtine a NTotegwy to Day, .And vow~d 'twas more Pi~ed~ure than Toil, I took it I thrlycl can far. Aind I let him not aflk a gre**: w.hile H'e begz'd rihe to grant him a Kirs, So earnelt he mnade me tr, fmih*, Have donre cry d Se'tis amcils, But I. wi h'd it to lait a gr·-at while.' D Hfe. { 26 ) H~e ~tella me 'I ought to be kind, That Time all my Beautices will Toil, I crols him tho' quite of his Mind, For I lov·e him to talk a great while i I think such sweet Things he has said, My Coynels at last he will ipoil; And when he once aflks me to wed, Oh ! I'll not live a Maid a great while. S ON G. Set by Mr. Battifhill. Slug by Myj Stevenson at Vauxhall. URaLars in her Bloom at the A~ge of Nin eteen Vl Was ne'er 10 d~ifrett as of hte I have been; J know not I vow any Harm I have done, )U: my Mother oft tells me the 11 have me a Nun. Don't you thinke it a P'ity a Girl such as 1, Sh~ould be fentenc'd to pray, and to fast, and to cryi UWith Ways to devout I'm not like to be won, And my Heart it loves frolickt too well for a Nun, T`o hear the Mecn fhtrcr, and promile. and iwear, Is a thiouland Times better to me Ideclare; I can keep my ielfchaite, nor by W'iles be undone; Nay besides I'm too handsome, I think for a Nua NVot to love or be lov'd, oh 1 I never can bear, Nor yield to be sent, to onl cannot tell where; 'To liv·e or to die in this Cafe were all one, N~ay 1 looner would die, then be reckon~'d a Nun. Perhaps, but to teaze me, the threatens rne so, I'm sure, were the mie, the won d floutly lay No, But, iffhe's in earnet,, I from her will run: And be married, in ipice, that I may'nt be a Nun. SONJ ( z7 ) A PAV OU R ITE SONTcG. A~ INVITATION r~o PLIEASURE. T o the fune ofHum phry G ravot. PLEASUTRE, godders all divine, C~ome, O ome, my foul is thine; Come, O come with graceful air, !Come, and drive away· dull care. Care that faits with sordid minds, Such as fear or av'rice binds, Selliih, sullen, human brutes, Those alone dull care bests faits. Bring wit6 thee [wveet dimpled Love, Cupid will with Pleasure rove, Bacchus too muff join the train, Bacchus prompts the jocund itrain. Merry Momus to appear Momus is a foe to care, Let me, let me join the choir, Plealare is my ioul's delire. P'll with Bacch Us tors the glars, And with Ca~pid coa~t my lars, Or with waggilh Momus laugh, Thus I'll iove and thus I'll quaff. ifence with all your (bbier rules, Wretched pedants, prating fools i ofty morals I defpile, Love and mirth can make us wife. The STLENT SLUT E. SI Damon late with Cloe fat, They talk'd of amorous bliffes : :ind thing-s he laid, which the repaid, Inplealing imiles and kisses. D)a. With ( 28s ) P ith tenefil~ tongue of love he sung ; -nc- Chank'd h7rnim fr his ditty : liot iaid one day', the heard him Cay 'iThe Flute was very- purtty. 1'it :rre Damorr n ho her mreaningr knew, : · nOr) ouhe ippeto f chlarml herT; A~:· a :·B! he Slro\·e wubl~ woma:n love, She beg' theinin to, p~ilay one MaIrn, 111 6:l c kijing found~ wnr.:1d fivectly woarcd, Awri. ;mak!e h:.r rlic wi th p~leature. Enge;r to as· t, he takes5 the fhte, Andl c.v':. accent tralces I cve nick'.' in throughh 10< ;ingers I!kw, In tend~er warbhn:ig Iraces. H: di~d hlis art we~i won'r'l`o uss art, Exipefting prair~es aiftr ; But (he, iniitead offalling dea~d, Brorke out into a laughiter. Takingr the h~int as Cloc· rec~ant, 'aid he myr dear be ely : I hav·e a PuLe, whic~h themehR1 'tiS mute, RUny p'lay a tunL· t, > p!eae yec. ? hen~ down heI laiJ the Emihang maid , He found her kind andl withong. He pla y'd again; and tho' each itrain \has silent, yetr t'wa~s killin~g. Fair Cloe soon aj prov J the tune, Ands vow'J` he: play'J divinely: Let s hav·e it o'er, said the, once more, It goes exceeding finely. The fule is good that's made of w·o:d , 4nt] is, I own. the~ nerdnc : But ne'trrhtheks I mull coord-i, Th'le silent nute'j thec liweete:Lt SONIG S ON G. IF Love's a fiveet Pafflon,, how can it torment ? SIfbitter, oh!i tell me, whence comes my Content? Since I ruffer with Pleasure, why should I complaine Or grieve at my Fate ? since [1coow 'tis in vain: Yet, so pleasing the Pain is, so ifor is the Dart, At once it both wounds me and tickles my Heart, At once it both wounds me and tickles my Heart. I gralp her Hand gently, look langulfhing down, And by pafflonate: Silence I make my Love known : Bultoh ! how I'm blest, when to kind the does prove, By fame willing Millake to dilcover the Love i When, in ftrivring to hide the reveals all her Flame, Our HEyes tell each otherwhat neither dare name, Our Eyes tell each other what neither dare name. How pleasing is Beauty I how fIveet are the Charms? How delightful Embraces i how peaceful her Arms ! Sore there's nothing to eaiy as learning to love ; 'TIis taught us on Earth, and by all Things above : To Beauty's bright Standard all Heroes muff yield ; 'Tis Beauty that conquers and keeps the fair Field : To Beauty's bright Standard all Heroes mull yrield;~ Tis Beauty that conquers and keeps the fair Field. . S ON G. JoHs andNatL. Sang byMr. Green. A.S Nellfat underneath her Cow, PiUpon a Cock of Hay ; Brisk 'fobn was coming from his Plough, And chanc'd to pals that Way : Like Light'ning to the Maid he flew, And by the Hand he (queez d her·; f( Pray John, lthe cry'd; be quiet Do," And frown'.d becadie he reiz'd her . D) 3 Yoaung (30) Young Ctrpid from his Mother's K~nee, Obiterv'd her Female Pride ; " Go on and prosper, ~john (say;s he) "And I will be your Guidc" 'Then aim'd act I?'·;!fs Brcalt a Dar~t, From Pride It so-) tru lessd her, Shec faintly cry'd, '; 1 tecl Love\'s Smanrt", A4nd ligh'd becade it eas'l hrer. S'ohin laid himfelfdown by· her Side, And Pole a Ilifs or twco ; And Fl'att'ry s. C'harms he alfTo try'd, 'Tlill th~e the kinder grewv . The P'oifon soon began to ipread, A2nd in the NVick her ieiz'd her; She trembled, blufh'd and hung her Head, Then imi)'d because he pleas'd her. S ON G. laS t'other Day o'er the green Meadow I pass, ft Swain ov~ertjook me, and held my H~and fit, Th:en cry'd, my dear Ltr,) thou Caule of my Care, J jow long rnult thy t;;jrliful young Th~irfis despair. in cr Cow1 rny fort W'ithes,, no longEcr be thy, At; frowning, I aniler'd, O sic, Shepherd, fie. HeC told me his Pall;on, lIke Time th:ould endure, That;1 Beautv. whi b > indled his F~lame.watr)J secure; Tha;t all myl fivee:~C'h trmns we~re) for Phf;lulC dleftgn d, $·rui Yo~uth \n wasL 2th a:in tO love and bet kind:u Loird w~hat cou'd 1 1by ! I cou'd hardly deny, 000i taintly 1 ulttr'd, O sic, Shep~herd, fc. HeI [wre·,· with a Kalr, but he w·ou'd not refrain, 1 :o:l him 'twas rude, but he kifiud me again ; );y: Conduc't, ye fair Ones, in Quellion ne er call, Northik Idid wrdng, I did nothing at ail : i;( folv'dl to refif, y·etinclin'd to comply, T·.w guess, if I fill faiid, O fie, Shepherd sic S ON G. (31 ) SON G. H ER E,'s a bumprnl to Bacchus, A hcalthl lt It round. W'hrlltour brains'- hke our glasses Let nones L.iaulk hijs \ ine~, H hu do·-s he drink; to, Come delav Ii·.t, b~ut trJi it To me andj to vo.OJ To him and to t'C'ther, See each maicn dril~k fair, There is enou gh ini the houme, And 'rih a rolly to Ipare We have mo~ney enoug~h, Or when w\e grow poor, To Uz'tis all onec,, For the v·intner muff icor;. S ON G. U"' :E" nymphns a ye sw~ains that trip the gay Come liflen a whiie to try· ferrow~fu l mains ; Oh ' herar mie wi:h piity, no trjile I sing, 'l is no dis tha~n rlhe 10s of ulny httle bLack thing. At cards as I fat with my friends t other day. To banith dull vaplours, and dr ive (pltan away, Young Colin, as frisky as birds in the [pring-, Sat toying the wvhile with nry little black thing, On me his fly look~s were n:ull conflantly bent, T`o g~aze on my! bauble for ever intent; Topsy turvy luis eyes he wo~uld frequently fling. While he roguihly) han~ied my linkl black thing. I dreamt E~dreamt orno mirchidf, but Int him enjoy The innocent pleathre to play with my toy : But when that his humnour was left to the ftwng,_ Ne would more than have play'd with. my little, black thing. Ten thodand soft wiirpers he fore'd in my ear. I bid him be gone ;-he vow'd I thould heair : I had not the power away from him to Spring-, He had to fall hold of my little black thing. He Caid my dear jewel, your charms I entreat; . Be kind, I fall Ilke a lamb at your feet : Oh.,!. grant. me, he cry'd, while round you I . cling., One msina~te's pof edlion of your little black thing. I frownd, and cry'd no a but as well migh~t comply, Eotr he weudd obtain, what I did him deny : The reft of my flory, ch ! how thall I fmng; Insa wOrd, he has rifl'd mny little black thing. S O '. G. RECITATIVE. 7 H E feltive board was met the social band i: Ronndfarm'd Anacreon took the:iriillntitand;, ]My bs .(began the sage) be this the rule; No brow auiterer mak dare approach my (chool; . WNhere love and Bacchus jointly reigns within . Old care, begone ! *here fadnete as .a fin. A I R. Tel~l e not the joys that wait · On.himh that's learn'd, on him that's great~;. Wealth and wisdom I deipife, Cares [arround the rich and wife, 'The ejoeen that gives soft wishes birth, . And IBacchus, god of wine and nairth, , Msi SMe thteir friend an'd fav'rite own, I was born for them alone : Bus'ners, title, pomp, and slate, SGive 'em to the fools I hate, Rut let love, let life be mine, SBring me women, bring n:g wine s Speecd thre dancing hours awa ny, Mind not what the gravec ones Tay : Gayly let the mninutes fly, In wit and freedom, love and joy : So shall love,' shall life be mnine, Bring me woman, bring rme wcinle. fbe Origiin of English Liberty. O NCE the gods of the Greek~s, at ambroal'alR Large bowls of rich nledar were quaffing, Merry Mpmus among them was fat as a guest, Homer iays the celeftials lov'd laughing a On each in the fooad ·the humourift droll~d, So none could his jokes disapprove, He sung, rep~arteedl, and romeiinart flories told, *And at !lad thus began upon Jove. Sire A4tlars, who long had the universe bore, Gr'ows grievously tir'd of late, He says that mankind are much ·wolf~e than bt- .fore, So he begs to be eas'd of their weight : Jove knowving the earth o$n poor Atlas was hurl'd From his thoulders commanded the ball, G~ave his daughter Attration the charge of the world, And theL hung it up high in his hall. ( 4 Mirs, pleas'd w'ith the prelent, review'd the globe round, To fee wVhat each climate was worth, Like a diamond, the w hole wvith an atmorphere crowvn'd And (hie variouly planted the earth W~ith silver, gold jewerls, the India endcow'd a France and Spain the taught vrineards to rear, Wh~'at faittd each climne on each clime the be, flow'd, And Freedom the found flourith'd here. Fiour cardinal virtuecs (he left in thnis ile, As guardians to cheriih the root, The boloo-**s on' iberty gaily did smile, .^ nd Englanhrica fed on the fruit : Thus fed andt thus bred from her bounty so rare O pre~llrve :: as free as 'twas given, WIe will whi.e we cve breath, nay we'll grasp it in death, Then return it untainted to heaven. S ON G. ON CE again this friendly moeeting Claims this fell~re voice of joy liacchus fendeth, kindly greeting, Halle to meet the finiling boy., Friends, replenith all your glaires, Charge them high with purest wine, Time on rapid pinions paiffs. Snatch the moments whillt they thine. Let not cloiller'd melancholy There sublimer joys defpire, If they call our pleasures folly.- None but fools are truly wife. S;ON G. SONG W OMNA N. Sjung by ISf. L O W E. N O longer let whimsical fonglters compoare, I ap7peal to the mien to determine betwveen, A tun- bellied Bacchus and Beauty's fair queen. A tun-bieciid Ba·cenus, &c. The pledutreg of drinking henl-eforth I resign, For tho' there is mirthi, yet rnacrs miadfnes m wine; Then ]lt no falle. (arkles our idecs begule, 'T'is the mention of C'hloe, that make the glais Tmile Her beaucies with rapture my fedeis inspire. And the m1ore behold her, the: more I admire; But thec charmns of hier temper and mind I adore, T`here v'irtues thall 'lerS me, wvhen beauty's no more. How hanlpp our days when with love we engage, fIis the~ tranripor of youtih, 'tis the comfort of age ; But whart are the joys5 of the bottle or bowl, Wine tickles the tatle, love enraptures the foul. A for as he riotS in liquor, wtill cry, The longer I drink, the more thir:ty am T; From this fair confefflon, tis plain my good friend, You re a taper etrrnal, anid donk to no end. Y'our big-bellie~d b~otle may ravilth your eye, But how foolith you'll look, w~hcn y·our bottle is dry ; From uwriman, dear woman. fweiec plafreir mull rprmng Nay the Iloics mult own it, the iS the· bedt thmg. Yet some p aires to wine we may jilly afi~ord, For a ti.me it will make one a· ::reat as a Jor d; But wan;ian 'or e~ve: gives tran:port to ma.n. And· Eliov e dear fex--aye as loing as I can. H-umourous Humourous S ON G. . JO.BSO.N's PwaRLY withNELL; Or, . A TadI/ r o the Co RONA r on. .5 ~iS timn~eard,mydaNel now to ceaf rm Our manners to mend, and begiin a new life: No more I will flout thee, no more rlI be frown'd; Nell. we'cll go to Condon, to fee rhe· King crown'd, The King7 didproclaim, wthen his reign did begin, Tlhatf to :wear and to h`old, was an horrible fiin; ·Then fiood me no more, and ingpeace J'11 be found r Nlell, welil go to L~ondon, to fee the Kling crown'd; There, Ne~ll we thr1i fe the KIng all in his robes, The lords in their laces, thle ladies with hobs; Trhe knirbts in their garters, and titles renown'd : . Nell, we'llgoO to London, to fee the K-iing crowp'd. O then we shall fee thle f;.ne croeveantiott chair, All c~over'd with crimson. and garrldi that does glare, The enthlon and canlopy Jalced around ; Nell. we 11 go to Lonton, to fee the King crown'd. T'he bishops in lawn then, all fine, and ol! clean, WZiills on the KFing;'s head set the crown to serene, Wriith gems 1;o beiplansed all eyes to confound Nell.' we'ti go to London, to fee the K~ing crown'd Ther. biblr,·,retented the K'ingn her will (wear, AllI right fbr to ro. without favour or fear. H-ow the drums .they will beat, and the trumpet w:11i found i N~ell, wre'll goto London, to seethe K;ing crown'd;, Flow the bells thiey ccil ring and the rot~ck wTilfily, H~ow the bombs and the: guns then, szrill roar in the The' ferpernts and f rebll~s, hlowr whim on the groundl Nr~ell, we'll goto London, to fee the King crown'd. SHowP ( 97 ) Ho~w the bumpers will flow too, to King George; the Third, A true Britilh monarch, I'll give you my word: Long, long may he reign, and, may plenty abound s Come Nell, lets to London, to fee the KCing crown'd. S ON~ G. Q~ U EEN MA B. A CANarrar Thse Words byj Mr. B ~-- . T~he Mu~c bCy Mr. D~ibden, RECITATIV E. NOT log ago, 'ti~s iaid, a proclamation, Was entabroad through all the Fai'ry nation ; Mab to her lovbig fubje~ts--A decree, At Shakefpear's tomb to hold a Jubilee. ACCOMPANIED., The night was come, an~d now on Avon's fide The pigmy race was seen, Attended by their queen. On chasers femne, and rome on crickets ridei, The queen appear'd from far, Mounted in a~nut thell carr; Six.painted lady-birds the carriage drew; And now the calvacade, Inr order due array'd March'd firit, Were crit, The s~acred Mulb'ry grew, And there their homlage paid:= Next they fought th~e holy ground, And while A thouiand glow-worm sorches glimmer'd round E Thus Thus G~ood Fellow, the herald of his fame, Did from the alaballer height proclaim, The poets titles and his itile. AIR Shakerpear, heaven's molt favor'd creature, Truedt copier of Nature. Firlt of` the Parnafiian train ; Chiefe~ll fav'rite of the mules, Whichi foL'er the poet chooses, Blett alike in ev'ry itrain. Life's Greareit censor and infpeator, Farcy's treasurer, W it's director, Artless to the (hamne of art, Mat~er of the various pathjons Leader of all inclinations. Sov'reign of the human heart. R EC I TA4T IVE. Then did the queen an acorn take, Fill'd with morn and ev'ning dew, Bruth'd from ev'ry fragrant brakes utfr That round the lawvns o tafr grew. ACCOMP ANIED. A9nd thus said she,, lIbation do I make, To our friend and father's thade : 'Twas Shakeifpar that the Faires made; A4nh men sh~all give us honour for his fake. .AI R. O happy bard, whole potent skill, Can give exiflance where it will. Let giant wisdom firive to chafe, From man's belief the Fairy race; Religios ( 39 ) Religion stern our pow'r rejeB, Philolophy our tales negleft, Only trussing what 'tis fecing, Combat us howe'er ther· 1111, In thy scenes we f hall exirt, Sure as if N'ature gav·e us being. S ON G. The CITY J U;BILEEr, TEglory of London was irw cet wlly O The glory of London was itweet wily Beckford was the mann who for free·domn did Rtand Nione ever did equal the i[weet willy O Beckford was the man who for freedom did fland None ever did equal the [weet willy O None ever did equal the liveet willy O The courtiers they dreaded the fiveet willy O Becaule he was jult and dilcharged his truss Vain titles ne'er tempted our fiveet willy 3 The pride of each patriot was fiveet willy O For they gloried in him that could (peak to a king May Oliver thine like th~e [weet willy O Three tinues a good member wac rweet willy O For Libertys cade~ was the heigth of our j oys The liverymens glory was sweet willy O Oliver's in the room of our tweet willy O May he always be ready as firm and as fleady The city to serve as our iweet willy O A Statute in marble offiveet willy O 'Tis the leaR they can do for a worthy To true For crowned with laurels died sweet willy O How Oliver ipoke like our sweet willy O May he fidfil all, that was said at Guildhall, And his monument fland by our iweet willy O Ez SON O. i 4o) S ON G. The MLIDDLESEX FAKSER; ATnight with the wloodlarke I relt I rife· each morn withi the lamne By the note of the Night~ingale how I am blest, I lautgh at thec trum~pet ihe trumrpet of fame My meals wi:hout riches are crown'd Fair temperance comies in their flead At my table tho' Iplenty be so undi By virtue my foott~eps are: kd. From the top of myv primrdy~ bl7i, How many pyroudr be 'dilng- 1 fee.· L et the lords of 'em en\.y who w1 ill, My care and my cottage for me, I labour Ltu leave when 1 plealet, I fludy but not to my hurt, My life is a compound of eare, A~voidingo all courtiers at court. Peace dwells in my roof that is Tow, To give up to pride or fair room, No cnvy no hatred no m~akie shall grow, While love truth and eale are in bloom, Of hef'th not of it ate Jo I dream, So 1;. eet is myv flfee ti 1 1 i re, Dick w·h-Elfs to iplow w\ith his team And I to my hercia with freln joys. I smile at myv coret::ies increase, H~er cor~mmrce rteligion and arms. Mky h-and andr my hecart chl my herart is for foch, A briton wsi: m Libe~r cy Libe~rty varmns, See rliton's flags Ptreamning wi:h silks, D~iplay· g~lory that we· all may b~e freec, M ay Li berty never want a W~ilkles Nior Wilks ever want Liberty. SON G. ( 4r HUNTING SONG. RECITATIVE ~. T H EI whilln~g ploughman hails the blu8in h-n The thruth me~lodious drowns the rultic note, Loud sings the blackbir-d thro' refuouding groves, And the larrk soars to meet the riling fan. As r . Away, to the cople lead away; And nowv, my) boys, throw off the hoands ; I'll w·arranlt be thews us iomne play : See yonder he skulks thro' the grounds. Then Opur your brisk courfers, and Cmoke `em my bloods 'Tis a delicate feent lying morn,l W'hat concert is equal to those of the woods, Betwixt echo, the hounds. and the horn t Each earth fe~e he tries at in vain, In cover nro safety can find ; So he breaks it and icow·ers amain, And leaves us a dillance behind O'er rocks and o'er rivers, and hedges we ly., All hazard and danger we scorn , ·'··- Stout reynard wve'll follow until that he die ; Cheer up my good dogs with the horn. And now he fearce creeps thro' the dale, All parch'd from his mouth hangs his tongue; His ilpeed canl no longer avail, Nor his cunniigr his life can prolong. From our staunch and ficet pack 'twas in vain thr he fled. See his brulh falls bemir'd forlorn ; The farmers with pileafure behold him lie dead, And thout to thle founl of the horn. E 3 _S ON G ( 42 ) HOW pleasant a falilor's life paikts. Who roamls o'e~r the wat'~ry· nuan; Nuo creafure he ever aImaills, D~ue cheecrfully Cfpends all1 his rgain. Wi~e're !Iangrer to panrty and at~iion, 'To honour and honcity true. And w~ou'd not conmmit a base· aiftion, For powver, or profit in viewv. CHORU S. Then wchy thouldl w:e qluarrel for riches. Or any) flilch glitte~ring toys ?~ A light heart and a thin patir of breeches, Goaes thorough the: world my brave boys. The world is a beautiful garden, Enrich'd w~ith the bkcilings of life 1 he tailer with plenty rewarding ; Wh'lich plenty too often bred~s lBrife. W~hen ternible tempetis allail us, And mcuntainous billows affrightl, No grandcur orwealth can av·ail us, But skilful; indullry fleers righ~t. T~henl why thould,, &~c. 7 he coutier'tS more fubje~t to dangers, W~ho rules at the helmn of the 1Hate ; 'IThen we, w'ho, to pubiticks Itrange~rs Escape the feares laid for thle great. The vanlcu bktiings of naturc,, In rad1·ous nation· w~e try, :·o~ mortah~ then us can be greater, The~~in hy, &<1. 8 ON G. (43) S ON G. A Cabler there :. ?s and he liv'`d in a fala, Whichl ferv'co him for parlear, for kitchen, and hall, N'o coin in his pocket, no care: in his pate, N'o amibition hafd hec, nor doesi at hi gate : Desrry dow~n, diowsn, dowin, de~rry· down. Contented h~e work'd, and he thought himself happy' If at night he could purchase= a jug of brown napp'y How he d laugh then, and whittle, and sing too most ~tweet! Saying, juff to a hair I have made both ends m~eet : Derry down, &Cc. But Love, the diilurber of high and of low, T'hat thoots at the peasant as we'I as the beau, He ihot the poor cobler quite thorough the heart-- I w·iih he had hit fame more ignoble: part : Derry down, &c. It was from a celler this archer did play. W'here a bouom young damsel continually lay ; IkrT eyes thone io bright, when ~ibe role ev'ry clay Th at the shot the poor cobler quite over the way : £>cirr down, &ce. Hie f~ingy her lov·elongs, as he fat at his work : Eut thec was as hard as a fe~w or a TIus k: W'heneve ]r he lake thle would flounce and w~ould Which i" at he pnoo cobkr quite into despair : Des·ty diown, &c. He Hie took up his awl that he had in the world, And to make away with himself was refolv'd , He pierc'd thro' his hody, ins ecad of the iole i So the cobler he d y'd, and the bell it did toll : Derry downl & rc. And now in good will I advise, as a friend, All coblers take warning by this cobler's end : ~Keep your hearts out of love , for we find, j what's pait, Th at lov·e brings us all to an end at the last : Derry down, & c. S ON G. WIT H women and w~ine I defy ev'ry care, For life without ther~e is a bubble of air ; For life without therCe, &ec. Each helping the other in pleasure I roll, And a new flow of spirits enlivens my foul, Each helping the other, &TLc. ~Let grave sober mortals my maxims condemn, I never thallalter my condu~lt for them ; I care not how much they my meai12res decline, Let 'em have their own humour, and I wrl have nune. Wine, prudently us'd, will our fedres improve ; 'Tis the spring -tide of life, and the fuel of love ; rAnd Venus ne er look'd with a [mile to divine, As when \4lars bound his head with a branch fr'om the vine. Then come, my dear charmer, thou nymph half divine, First pledge me with kisses, next pledge me with Wine ; Then givingf and tak~ing, in mutual return, TFhe torch of our loves shall eternally burn. 1But- But thouldWl thou my paffionn for wine dirapprove, My bumper 1`il quit to be blest with mly love ; F'or rather than forfeit the joys of my lass, MIy bottle I'll break, and demolish mly glass. Tihe RARITIFS ofLoxoon, A REDLEY. IC~e h aDobbin.) COM Roger, and li~len to where I haveci! h7e tell thee whait wonderful zigihts I have sreen ; guch places for ral~ime, as now bear renown, In hat t·enous 7ity:, call'd fdlTr London towvn, On1 brave London i O I,\eet London In that fclmouls zity, call'd fair London town. (John and Betty.) F;irt you amil~ know, T'hat we did gro Into the zjtty ; And saw not far From Temple-bar, The w~ax work pretty. (T rnade love to K~ate, &ic.) Then they~ carried me, 10o chalrch built byv St. Paul; Tho' thouitnds I did zee, 'TIwas b~igner than 'em all, And up the wijnding flairs, Ama3Z d, we did ascend ; So manny, waurnds ! I thouiiht, Wet ne'er thou d zee an enid, But how I gnp'd and, flar'd, When to the top wse came, Had you been in mly place, Why you'd have done the zame (Tom ( 46 ) (Tem loves Mary passing well, ~ac.) To Guild-hall next we did repair, That we might view the giants : They told me they flood always there, To bid the French defiance. That when they heard the clock firike one, They would come down and greet me:: I coc} Idid not like fach van, I was afraid they'd eat me. (Stick a pin there.) And then to the Tower away we all firollfd, The lions, the armour, and crown to behold : When the show-man at lalt bid the laires to fair, In old Htrry's pinculhion flick a pin there, -Stick a pin there. &c. (My fond Shepherds of late, &rc ) Back to Weftminfier-abbey we fIray'd, Where are zeen all the kings, queens, and tom bs, But I never zaw since I was made, Such a number of deadly high rooms. Then the organs play'd up, too so fine, What the boys lang I underflood not; But the people in ch orus did join, That in heaven I thought I was got. ( The A ttic Fir~e.) At play-houle too I did ad mi re, A man who walk'd up~on a wire, As thof it was the ground ; And then the zails of our old m~ill, When mov'd, co mpar'd with him fland full, So fall he did turn round, (K~itty. ( 47) (Kitty-Fell. ) Ent now the time, alas ! was come, When I muff think of going home, Ah me, unhappy clown!i I dream of what I'd zeen, all night, And early by thle morning hfhtc, 1 left dear London town, Charming London! happy London! Adica l dear London, London town. S ON G. Sung by Mr. BE ARD, in Love in a Village, What chear my honest mellinates. THERE was a jolly miller once, Liv'd on the river D~ee; He work'd and sung from morn 'till night, No lark more blirh than he And this the burthen of his foug, For ever us'd to be; I care for no body, not I, If no one cares for me. S ON G. Snng int L ET H e. yE morrtal~h,1hm fancies and troubles per-ex WVhom follies milguide, and infirmities vex : Whole lives hardly know what it is to be blest ; Whose rife without joy, and lie down wtithout reft ; Obey the glad summons, to Lethe repair, Drink deep of the fiream, and forget all your care. Beink deep, &c. Old ( 48 ) Qld maids thall forget what they with'd for ia vain, And young ones the rover they cannot regain; T ?he rake Ihall forget how lalt night he was cloy d, And Chloe again be with rapture enjoy'd : Obey then the famm~ons, to Lethe repair, And dr~nk an oblivion to, trouble and care; And armk an oblivion, &~c. The wife at onle draught may forget all he wants. Or drench her iond fool to forget her gallants ; The t o~ublea in miind thall go cheartal away, And yelterday1 w~nrrtch be quite happy to-day ; Obey then the summons, to Lethe repair, Drink ·..he of the itream, and forget ald your care. Drink cl p, &c. S ON1 G. By~ Mr. IV:ettacks, Set by Mr, Arnold. NO Oper to the ch ace can compare, So mn'ytheplealfares it yields; How rweet. how refreliinga that air Inhal'd in the woodsr and: me fields ! As we ru01 !rn pciraiut, new feenes flill appear, New kuldicaFpes encounter the eye: Not Hanriel's f iert rouf~c more pleases the ear, T`han that of the bounds in 1011 cry. New fIrength from thle chace we derive; It~s exercise purges the b~lood: How happy that mortal must live. Whole iport yelds both phylac and food I So new and to, vary its ,rharms, they ne'er cloy L.ike thole of the: btLeL~~ and face, The oft'ner, the hsarer, the more we enjoy, The: more we're inl love w·ith tht: chazes. SON G. The JOLLY BUTCHER. To the tune--Of noblel ratce wasr Shinkin. THE RE was a jolly Butcher, H-e liv'dl at N~orton f~algate, He kept a flall, At Leaden Hall, And got drunk at the Dog at Aldgate, I I. He ran down Houlnds-Ditch reeling, At Bedlam he was frighted i He in Moorfields, Bethlit his heels, And~at Hoxcon he was wiped. Ill. His mother The came to him, Who once liv'd down at Dover, She gav·e him a pot Of' the belt gin hot And he fpew'd in her lap all over. I V. His rweetheart next came to him, With rolling eye to charnuing, She wvas rugged and rough And lov'd huckle-my-buff` And would dride; from night till morning. F V'. Her· ( o V. Her name it was Nell Larking. And thus the said unto him, If you'll go home, Dick, J'll pay off your tick. And Ove your foul from ruin. VI. Wou'd you leave those vile companions, Bob Baker and Ned Hlarden, By your knife and y·our fleel, YS-ou might live genteel, And come to be Church Warden. VII. Confider, dearest Dicky, Youl've got a wealthy grannum, She now is sick, And will leave you Dick, Near fifteen pounds per a onlum. V III. Says Dick my [weetell creature, Foor I, mutl go beyand sea, Then give me, my girl, B ut one pot of purl, And JI' love thee as long as I can fee, IX. While thus they talk'd 10 cliver, Two conflables came imack in, To the Bridewell In Clerkenwrell, They sent poor Nelly packing. 3. An X. And as for Dick the butcher, T~hr=Le baliff~s took him n;apping; No bail could he get, And he lies for debt, At a ipunrging-houle in Wapping. S O N GC. 'The CHA4ISE MnRINE. MYdeareft life, wert thou my wvife, How happy thoui'd i be; And all my care in peace and war, Shou'd be to pleasure thtee: When upi and down from town to town, W~e jolly· soldiers rovle, Then you my queen, in Chalfe Marine. S;hall move lIke queen of love. Your love l'd prize beyond the fkijes, Beyond the ifpoils of war, Wouldlt thou agree to follow me, In humlble Baggage Car. For happineis, tho' in diffrels, In froldie-rs wives is ieen; And pride in coach has more reproach, Than Jave in Chaire Marine. O ! do not hold your love in gold, Nor set your heart on gain , Behold the Great with all their slate, Their lives are care and pain. In house or tent, I pay no rent, Nor care nor trouble fee ? And ev'ry day I get my pay, And ipend it merrily. Fa ;Love ( 52 Love not those knavecs, gwat: fortune's !!ares;, Who lead iglnoble lives: Nor, deign to f~inIle on m~en io vile. W;ho fri ht none but their wives. For Bri~tons rightc, and you we fight, At rd everry jil defy, ;i:hod iit rrhe faIr ren ardn our care, 'J ith? iove? and conllancy·. If 13; V nor groans. nor tincerl mroans, - Can:· n in1 ;our harden'd hc;;rl, Let lo.ve in armis. with a:1 his charmns, T~hen take a foldlier· yart. With~l iife anrd dlumn, the fo~ldierts come, And all the pomp of war, T hen dea 't think m~ean of C'haire Marine, ' Tis loves Triumphant Car. S ON G;. The GALLANT SAIL OR. C ALL ~A NT Sailor oft you told me, T ?hat you'd never leave your love, To your vo~ws I now muit hold y·ou, Now~'j !he timie your love: to prove. To youri Vow~s I nowv mull h-old y·ou, Niow's the time your love to prove. SamLoR. Is no0t Eritain's fag~ degradedl, allave vt· Frrenchmen brav'dl our fleet ? Howv ran filrors live uphraided, Whiile the F~renchmecn dare to meet H-ow can sailors live- upbraided, W~hile the Frenchmen dare to meet ? Na ,v NAN. Hear me, Gallant Sailor, hear me; While your country has a foe, HE is mine too, never fear me; I may weep but you must go, I may weep, i may weep, I may weep, but you thall go. Though this Row'ry season wooes you, To- the peaceful itports of May,; And love sighs To long to lose you, Love to glory thll lgive way. Love to glory, love to glory, Love to glor-y muff give way. S.4 IoR. Can the sons of Britain fail her, While her daughters are so true ?r YJour soft courage reft avail her, We love honour loving you. We love honour, we love honour, We love honour loving yonu. BoarSWAIN. War and danger now invite us; Blow ye winds, aalpicious blow, Ev'ry gale will most delight us, T hat can waft us to the foe, Ev'ryl gale will molt delight us, That can waft us to the foe. S ON G. The HO NE ST F E LL O . Set6, Dr. ARXE. PHO i pox o'this nonfed~e, T prithee give o'er, And talk of your Phillis and Cloe no mrore, Their face, and their air, and their mein what a rout ! Here's to thee, my lad, ptlh the bottle about. Here's to thee, my lad, purh th4e bottle about. Let ( 4 Let finical fops play· the fool and ope: " hey dare not confide in the juice of the grape, Bar w~e honcil fellows, 'fdeath who'd ever think Of poling for love, while he's able to drink, Of poling, &~c, 'T~is wine only wine that true pleasure bellows, Ourjoys it increases, and lig htens our woes s Pcnemeberr what topers of old us'd to fing.r Thelr ma;n that is drunlk is as great as a king. TIlie Man, &cc. If api afults you, there's law for his tricks, AinLacreo s cafes, ike page twenty-fix ; Th.re precedent's glorious, and jult by my foul ; Lay hold on, and drown the young dog in a bowl. Lay hold, & c. Wlhat's life but a fr~olick, a fEong, and a laugh ? My~l toalk thall be this whilfl I've liquor to quaff, Maiy mirth and good fellowthip alwa) s abound ? Bjoys, fill up a huimper, and let it go round. Ijoys, fill up a bumper, and let it go round. S ON G. Sung by M4r. Laws at Vauxhall. O N the whiteclff of Albion, fee Fame whrehnh Ist A4nd her th~rill ifwelling notes reach the neighbour. ing lan!s ; Of th~e natives free bo~rn, and their conquefis the fiugs, '1 he hap~picit o~fmen with the greatell of kings. Geo''rgethe IChird the proclaims, his vait glory repeats, t-hs undl~uay'd le~gioils, invincible fleets; Whomi~ nor- coftles or rocks cain from honout retard, Lbace e'cn death for their king, they with icorn dilregard.~d O! Of but fee a cloud burf1, and an angel appears, 'Tis Peace, lovely virgin, di~lllved in tears; Say, Fame, cry d the maid, is t not time to give o'eB, W'ith sieges and famine, exploflons an~d gore. His juff rights to affect hath the King amply try'd, Nior his whil~om or firength can opponents abide, Then no longer in rage let dread thunders be hurl'd, But leave him to me, and give ease: to the world. 'Tis done, and great George is to mercy inclin'd, The ble!t word is gone forth for the go~od of u:nnicnd; 'Tis the nac of a Briton to beast, then to ri~are' And our :I Ng is a Briton, deny it who dare. To Hodgfobn and Keppel let bumpers then imile, And to all our brave troops, who have taken Bellilile, Wlay they, meet just rcward, and with c~ourage advance Still to humble the pride and the power of France, Charge your glafe~s lip high, and drink health to the king, To the Duke and the Princess, and make the air ring; May the days of grear George, be all happy and long, And the man * 11ill be right, who yet never was wrong, S ON G. Sung by Mr. Mattocks, in THOMlAS and SALLY T Eecchoing horn calls the iportfmen abroad, The morning is up, and the cry of the hounds, Upbraids our too tedious delay : What pleasure we find in pursuing the fox, O'er hill, and o'er valley he fl~ies; Then follow, we'll soon overtake him, huzza ! The traitor is feiz'd on, and dies. * Mr Secretary Pitt. Triumphan 2 6 Triumphant returning, at night with the rpoilt, Like bacchanals, thouting and gay : H~ow fiveet with a bottle and lais to refreth, Alnd Jose the fatigues of the day : With iport, love. and wine, fickle fortune defy, Dull wildom all happiners fours : Since life is no more than a pallage at best, Let's firew the wYay over with fBow'rs. B U C K's S O N G. Dedicated to the BRETIR EN Of that N oBLE ORDER. To the tune of-f·iantrarara maL all. B R OTH ER Bucks all attend to the theme rih ig And in chorus to loud make the cleling to ring, From thence to the sk~ies let your voices resound, While each heart glows with mirth, and the bum- pers go round. Sing tantarara Bucks all, But firil to our GRAND Oft US (111 homage pay, And masy each graceful Buck his lov'd ediAs obey ; 10ay -his breast fraught with candor be open and free, And may· all in bagh Station be hone/i as hie. Sing tantazrara, &c. From f'acred records our famn~ion we trace, Of old N1MhiROD the Bu,-k, who was fond of thechanir. But lince thiat our OrdePr's so general become, Buchr are ev'ry where made both abroad and at bome. Silng tantarara, &Sc.C Now to IBucks of all seAs in a health let us join, Here s t he B)ucks of the hell. and the B'urks of the Vinr Here:'s the Lodes at P'latter, and htkewife to those Of o.!: Order [o crue, at the Sun and the Ro/e. Sing tantalrara, &Gc. Let ( 57 Lcet him, the~refore who rails at our high appellation, W Wa~rc'u; be his worth, or whatevertz his flation, W~elgh maturely the point,---and~ pray hard for gfood look,. Or its twrentyr to one but incog, he's a link. bing tantarara, &c. Here'~ thc~oitic- Ea~Ck, whole hig~h an!tlers we~lltipp'd, Sh~akes his pa le at the world while his Doe's fairly leap'd ; l iere' a 2)nls of' condolence to each plodding rit, That ss m~ailiarly back'd by a Lord or a W·it. Sing tanrarara, &c., Here's Sir Gravity) too in a bumper so clear, Whlo oft at our fan~tion callts many a inezr; Tho' in rublic hie rails. yet in privuate we know, He's a Bvck every inch, --1 appeal to his Dae, S~ing cantarara, &rc. Now to Fuckts of all kinds we have toalled fac~cels, Herec's to the iweet pretty Does, for can tr~u Buck do lIrs ? T-hen join In the chorus with accents 10 thrill, And m~ay each jolly Buck--have a Doe aIt his wiill. Sing tantarara Bucks all. C A N T A T'A. The Ro nssT BE E vof OLo E G cLAND Fr~om a celebrated Print of thr inkenioul nltr. Hac. a n a. RECITATIV E, 9 "rW AS at the gate of Calais, Hogarth te~lls* s4 W·here Cild ddrpair and famine alwvays dwells.r A meag~re Frenchiman, Mladame G~randCfue's cook, As home he fleer'd his carcase, that way took; Bending Bending beneath the weight of fam'd Sir Loin, On wvhom he often with'd in vain to dine : Good father Dominick by chance came by, With roly gills, round paunch, and greed eye; Who, when he firit beheld the greatyr load, His benedidtion on it he beffolv'd , And as the solid fat his fingers prer~s'd, He lic~k'd his chops anld thus thre limght addrefs~d. AI R. (A lodyp la/s o ra friar came, ~fc.) Oh rare roaflt beef ! lov'd! by all mankind, If I was doom'd to have thee, When drrfs~d and g*, i,:d tomny mind, And fwimmning in thy gravy, Not all thy countrys force combi'n'd Should from Ir~y fury save thee. Renown'd Sir Loin, oft times decreed. Tlhe theme of Englilh ballad ; On thee e'en kings hav~e deign'd to feed, U'nknown to F'renchman's palate; Then hiow miurh miore thy taRe doth exceed Soop meagre, frogs, and fallad. RECITATIV E. A half flarv'd soldier, thirtle~s, pale, and lean, W~ho foch a fightr before had never seen ; Like Garrick's frighted Hamilet, gaping flood, And gaz'd with wonder on the Brittifh food. His m;ornings mers forsook the friendly bowl, And in small ffreams along the pavement Rtole. He heav'd a sigh which gave his heart reh~ef, And then in plaiintive groan declatr'd his grief. AI R, ( r9 ( A I R. (Foot's Mined.) Ah, sacre Dieu ! vat do I fee y·onder, Dat look so tempting red and vijte ? Begar it be de roalt beef from Londre: cih grant me von little bite. But to my guts if you give no heeding, And cruel late dis boon denies; In kind comipation unto my pleading, Return, and let me feadt nulne eyes. RECIT`ATIV E. Elis fellow guard of right HibernTian clay. Whole brazen front his country· did betray ; From Tybvurn's fatal tree had hither fled, By honelt means to gain his daily bread. Soon as the well-known profpe~t he defery'd, in blubb'ring accents dolefully he cry·'d. AI R. (Ellen a Roon.) tweet beef, that usw causes my Stomach to rife, Sweet beef, that now causes my· Stomach to rife. So taking thy fight is, M~y joy that so light is, Po view thee, by pailfulls, runs out at my eyes. While here I remain, my life's not worth a farthing, While here I remain, my life's not worte a farthing, Ah hard-hearcy Lewy ! Why did I come to you ? (Starving;, The gallows, more kind would have fav'd me from REC 1- (60 RE CIT A T'IV E Upon the ground hard by poor Sawnyl lGte, Who fed his nose, and fcratch'd hi~s ruddy pjte,; But when Old England's bulwark he efpiy d, His dear lov'd mull, alas was thrown a~de: W~ith lifted hands he blelt his native plice, Then icrubi'd hininflf,; and thus bewail d his calfs A I R. ('The broom at Co~wdefnhows~.) How hard, Oh!i Sawney, is thy lot, Who was to blithe of late, To fee such meat as can't be got, When hunger is to great. O the beef 1 the bonny, bonny beef, When roalted nice and brown; I with I had a slice of thee, How tweet it would gang down. Ah Charley ! hadit thou not been seen, This ne er had happ'd to me; I would the de'el had pick d mine cy n, Erc 1 had gang'd wi' thee. 0 the beef Acr, RECITATIVE. But fee mry male to England takes her flight, W'here health and plenty socially unite, Wherre smiling freedom guardsgreat Gerorge's throne, And whips, and chains. and tortures are not known, Tho' Britain's flune in Jofriet itrains thould ring, In ruthec Fable give mel eave to flag.. A I R· ( 6: J A I R. A· once on a time a y·oung frog, pert and vain, Behcld 4 Inrge ox grassag: o'er thec wide p·!aln, He boatted his cGre he could quicidy anaml. O the Roast Beef of Oldi England, And O the Old Englith Roalt aeel. Then eagerly itectching his weak; little frame, IMbmma, w~ho ]toad by, like a knowvin: old dame. Cry'd ** Son, to attemlpt it youl're lurely to blarme.' O the Roast Bee~f, ac., But deaf to advice he for glory did thirit, An effort he ventur'd more Itrong thanl the lirlt, 'I ill livelling and Rraining to:, har-· mandr hini burt.4 O the Reall Bets, &~ * Then Britnns he varliant, the moral is clear : The orw Is Old Engl:mnct the frocg is Monfic ur , Wlhole puffs and brovadoes we need ni ver trar. O the Road~! Beef, &c. For while by our com~merce anrd arts we ar" ab~le, To fee the Sir Louin fcmakling hot o~n our tAble, The French may' e on burt like th-·- frn · in the si! le.. O rhr Roa 1 -4? es o~f I H· Enrlhed. And O the Old E'ngi ib onit~ Heef S ON G. Sun" by Mo~t. V'i 43c eN at Vauxha;:;1. J EL L,,, 10 comlnac hur in the fame mnind, \E 1 neveIr :h It wed 1 pirotel; Ther -'s foml·t~l1nk so Ihoiikin· ;n al the mrale kind, T`hat bid my thoughts yetwe-~ the sett. c'~ ?he: ( 62 ) The nymphs think it Itrange I ihould be annoy'd uy mian, who was meant for miy Good ; B~ut Hnoit s in one's nature one can~not avoid, I'd be in the mode if I could. The Ihepherds all wonder that from them I fly, If seen o'er the plains as I go; Why still let 'em wonder, at diltane, laiy 1, Tlhe mecn thould be always kept so. Young Colin declares my averfion's a joke, Anld thiinkcs in my) heasrt to faucceed; For w oman,. he say)s, never thouight as th~e ipoke, He 's mighty obliging indeed. H~e caught me juff now, and it came in his head To kiss me but from him I tore; Yet really believ~e, had he done as he said, He could not have frighted me more. SI hope that such Freedoms he'll ne'er again dfe, My Eix'd reso~lution to try : For oh, I'm quit certain I thall not refore, Good Jack i I mean (hall not comply. S ON G. In the MO DERaN TAS T E. ONE morning young Roger accolled me thus, C'ome he- , prectt e liden, and give me a buis; Lord fellow, said i, minri your plough and youlr cart; Yes, I thank you for nom!inn, chank you for notaing, thank'; y on for nothmgn w\·ith all mly heart. Well, then :· be sure, he grew civil enough. H~e gave me~ h ox w\ith apalper of inuf f; I took it I ow n, yet fuill had to much art, 'To cry, thank you forT nothing, wvith all my heart. He ( 63 H-e raid , if To be, he might make me h; wvife, Good Lord, I ne'er was 10 daht'd in my life . Yet could not help laug~hing to fee the fool rtani, When I thank'd him for nothingr withi anl m heart. Soon after, hoev~e~r, hr pnin'd my· codnCrt. And with him one hurinda te chapeli I wetcnt, Ffut find 'twas m~y ~oodne·fs. moi'rer tha~n jbe deer~t, Not to thank him~ for nothing \i:;b ail ny~ bei.. The Parion cry'd, child, y~ou! m~uit aftr rnec iky And then talk'd of honour; and love and O!·ev BUt faith, whein h~is revernce~L · Lrann* to, thatr p~rt, Theie I thank'd himl for n~othing with ail l y heart. At night our brisk neighbours the flocklng would throwv, I mull not tell tales but I knowr~ what I know; Young R~oger confeff'es I cur'd all his rmart, And I thank'd him for fomrnehing wit·h all mly heart. S ON G. THE morning is charming, all nature is poy* Aw·ay, my· brave Days·, to. your hades1 away i For the prime of our pleafore, and queltian the hare, We have unt 10 much as a mlom~ntt to sp~are. Cho Hark!i the live~y to-: -1j horn, f low mielodious it foundJ, how melodius ic found>, To the :rntlical Con ofI theindic ;IU?;IIong of~ the merry mlouth d hound . In yon flubble field we (hal: 'ind her helows: Soho ! cries the huntfmn ·; lark- ,o him. o See i fee where the goes, an;.; rr ;·o uncr· have a vie~ . Such harmony Harndel himfl ls never knew. Ga Choc Cho. G~ates, hedges, anrd ditches'to u· are no bounds. Bu: th~e world is our own while we follow the hound~s. 111. Hold, held,:ti· a double ; bark. hev· ! Gowler, hey i )1,· Ibauty furp`J!ing. his tr~ruth ba- been try d, At ther head of th'e l~ck iin met.ldbble gulide. C;;,. At hiis cry the wlde WOtlm~ with thunder re so:.n Js, T~he d-rhagi of hunt;rs, the glory of hounds. I V. O'er hlighlands ond o\ !0minJ , and w~ood!. nds wre fly, Our horse~s fu~l l sped, rrnd our boy .ds in full cry; So rr.atch d in th-ir mouths, and so even they run, I iike the trine of the fphecs, and the race of the iun, Cho~ Htealth. joy, and ftalcity, dance in the rounds. And bless the gay circle of hunters and hounds, V. The old hoands p·Jth forwvard, a very sure fiin, Th~at the hrnre !pho' a Itout one) begins to decline; A chase of twoe hours or more (he has led, She's down, look about ye, the~y have hrr, the's dead. Cho How gIlorious a death to be hcnour'd w·ith found~s Of hcjrns, and a Q:00t to the chorus of hounds* Here's a h:a!th to all hunters, a7nd long he their lIves, Ma h eyl) o~Cver~i' be cTrol by thenI Ifeethelrarr or w·ives a IV~a they rcak their ow n pati~ons andJ be cr-er at rest, As ther av7 it h,4yyr m~n, be they also the bel·t. Cbt. A1nd'free fr nl the ca reu h ich '1h many~ surrounds. Be happy at last when they fee more ho~unds. SONG. C S ON G. Sulng by Mr. Mattocks, in Love in a Village. TIL L in hopes to get the better SOs my flubborn flame I try, Swear this moment to forget her, And the next my oath deny, Niow prepar'd with fcrorn to treat her, Ev'ry charm in thought I brave , Boall my freedom, fly to meet her, And confess myself a save, S ON G. Sung by Mlr. Dunflarl, in Love in a Village. WEL LL, well, lay no more, Sure you told Iiet before; I fee the full length of mly tether, Do you think I'm a fool, That I need go to school ? I can spell ylou and put y·ou together, A word to the wife, W'ill always faffce ; Addfniggards go talk to y·our parro:; I'm not such an elf, Though I fay it mylelf, But I know a th~eep's head from a ca: rot. S ON G. Sunrg by' Mrs. Baker, in Lovre in a Village. S IN CE Hodge p~rove~s unggrateful, no farther1 iek But. go up to town in the waggon r ext~ week s A Iervice in London is no iuch difgracce And reglter office will1 Ge~t me a plalce: B~t ( 66 ) Bet H~nlfo:n went there, and soon met with a ftrind ; Folk.; sav, so her silks the's now anading an end r T'hen w~hy thorild not Ithe~ fame m. xlim pursue, Anc: beuter my;) fortune, as other girlsdo S ON G. Su--y by Mlr Shutert, in Love in a Yd:!:!ge. H E YI follow' da lass that was froward and thly, O~h ! I fik to JCud, 101 I made her comply; Oh ! I took her Io lovinigly round the ward, %nd 1 inmark'd her h~ys. and I held her fadl : W'hen hug~g'd and hauLl d, She' Iqucal a and (quall d; Ro~t thuhtevo' ' cid w~as in vain, Yet 1 p~leas d her to well, th..t thE bore it again, TIintn hoity, toiry, W'hifking, frisking. G;reen wva· heir aown'd upon the graG; Oh ! such was the joys· of' LLa dancing days5. SON G. Sung by· ?Jr. Dun.10ll in Love .n a Village. PQ lague of thporner~ wenches, they make fuich s Wthen once· they have kct'n a mnan have his will; T hey'rea~lwsays a whining f~or something or other, And cry. he's unkind in his carrinage; W~hat tho'f he (peaks them ne'er Co fairly, rili they! keep reazieg tearing on : \'ou cannot perfunde 'em, 'Ti! prorniik you've made 'em; And ( 67 ) And after the've got it. They tellI you--odd rot it, Their charaderr's blasted, they're ruin'd, undone; And then, to be sure, fir, There is but one cure, fir, And all their dlicourfe is of marriage, S ON G. Sung ly M-s·. Thomnplan, in Thornas and Sally. A " y'::cylao would with to Cucceed with l~ Lea~rn how, the affalir's to be done; For if you fland fooling, and Ihy, like an als, You'dl lose her as sure as a gun. W~ith whir ing, and £2ghing, and vowsJ, and all that, As far as ytou pleaie you may run ; She'll hear you, and jeer you, and give you a plat. But jdlt you, as sure as a gun. To wortnipi andl call her bright goddels, is fine But ma= k you the codrequence, mur~; The ba~ggge wIll think herfelfreally dirine, Andl !corn you, aa sure as a gun. TIhen be with a maiden, both, frolic, and Bout, And no opportunity thun; She'll tell you the hates you, and [wear the'll cry out, But mum-11w~r's as sure as a gun. SON G. S ON G. Bang byr Mr. Mattocks and Mrs. Pinto, in Thomas and Sally. W7E LL met, pretty maid, Nay, don a be affraid I mean you no milchief, I vow;. Plha ! what is't you ail ? Come, give me your pail, And I'll carry it up to your cow. Pray let it alone, I've hands of my own, Nor need yours to help me--forbear ! How can you persist ? I won't, Sir, be kiss, Nor teaz'd thus--go trifle elsewhere, 'Squire. In yon lonely grove, I saw an alcove, All round the sweet violet Iprings I And there was a thruth, Hard by in a bush, 'Twould charm you to hear how he sings. Sally. But hark! prithee hark ! Look :·cnders a lark I It wa ble~ anc~i , 1- ales me so, Tor.l .! tht· soft tale, O' th' Ly~er nightingale, Iwould not be tempted to go. 'Syria.~d I 69 ) 'Squirec Tfhen here we'll fit down ; C~ome, comne, ne~ver frown ! No longer my blils I 11 retatrd a Kind Venus mall (pre'ad, Heir vel over our head. And the hittle rogue Capid keep guard. S ON G. Sung MrS~. Dibdin, in the Padlock. DEAR heart, what a terrible life am I led, A doR has a better that's thelter'd and ,ed: Night and day 'tis de fame, My pain is der game ; Me with to de Lord me was dead. WChat e'ers to be done, Poor black mult run; Mungo here, Mungo dere, Mungo evey where; Above: and below, Fitrah come, Sirrah go, Do so, and do so. Oh ! ohx i Me with to de Lord me was dead. S ON G. Sung by· M. Raker, in Midan, glCom ihne ejoydg'E you mean to hire for Gr·vice, Y'ou <an help tl, bringhmhav, Tend the: lheep and edtehg W'ith~ three crowns. your fItnding wages You fluill daintily be fed r Bacon, beans, salt breef cabbages, _futter-mnilk;, and oaten bread. Come ( 70 ) Come firik~e hands y·ou'll lice in clover, When w\e get you once at horne, And when daily wuork is over We'll all dance to your fIruml, frum. S ON G. Suaiy ly~ lir. M~attocks. in Artalxerxes. W 3 IB N red joy we m- -IB. ' fij fame de:: ree of liss, T' enjoy iced1 pleafuirc, And dream of hidden tredlure, The soldier dreams of ware, And conquers without fearrs; The sailor in hlis sleep, With fafetyr plowvs the deep : So I, thro' fancy's aid, Enjoy my heav·enly maid. And blest with thee a nd love, Am greater far than Jove. S ON G, Sunrg by Mrs. Baker, in Artaxerxes. H OWhard is my fate, How delp'rate my it;.te, When virtue and honour excite, To fuffer diffreis, Contented to blef;, The objeft in whom I delight, Yet 'midft all the woes IMy fool undergoes, Thro' virtue's too rigid decree; I'll Icorn to complain, If the force of my pain Awaken his pity for me. S ON~G. S O Nr G;. Sun~g (v· n!s. Peretti, in Artaxerxes, 1 N infancy our hopes and fears, A Wee toeachother known; And friendihip in our riper years, Has tw~in'd our hearts in one. O icear himl then from this offence, Thy lov·e, thy· duty prove , Re~tore h:im w~ithl ,Iat innocence W'hich firlt insp~ired my love. S ON G. Svng By· Mrs. P'into, in Artaixerxes, IF o'er the cruel tyrant, lov-e, A conquell I beii:v'd, The latt'ring crror cease to prove, O) let me be deceiv'd, Forbear to fan the gentle flame, W~hich love did firit creat-, What was my pride is now my thame, And muff be turn'd to hate. Then call not to my wvav'ringB mind, The weakndfs of my heart; WShich, ah ? I feel too much inclin'd TIo take the traitor's part. S O NIiG. Sung bd: Mlrs. Pinto, in Artaxerxes. LET not rage, thy borom firing, Pity's softer claim remove; Spare a heart that's juff expiring, Forc'd by duty, rack'd by· love. Each ( 72) Each ungentle thought fuilpending, Judge: of mine by thy ifoR breads; Nour with rancour, never ending Heap freth sorrows on th` oppref~s'd. Let not rage, thy bosom firing, Pity's (0.fter claim remove, Spare a heart that s now expiringC, Forc'd by duty, rack'd by love. Hean'n, that ev'ry joy has croft, Ne'er my retche~d Itate can me~nd, ], alas ' at once have )lot, Father, brother, lover, ftiend. Let not rags, A~c. S ON G. Sung by Mr. Baddeley, in Capricious Lovers. H EN the head of poor Tummas was broke By· Roger who play'd1 at the wake, And Klate was alarm'd at the firoke, And wept for poor I'ummas's thke: When his worthip gave noggins of ale, And the liquor was charming and flout, O ! there were the times to regale, And we footed it rarely about. When our yartners were buxom as does, And wye all were as happy as kings; Edch lad rn his holy- day cloaths, And the laltes in all their bur~t things. What merrimtent all the day long, M~ay th- feast of our children prove foch ; Oclznoks, but I'll join in the lo~ng. ,Jnd 1'll hobble about with my crutch. SON G. H O ' m~~" drrs my msannrs, is limple andpan A rarcal I hare, and a knave I diidain ; ]Vy dealings are j uft and my conscience is cl·ear, And I'm richer than thos~e that have~ thousands a year. Tho' bent down with age, and for rporting on. couth, I feel no remorse from the follies of youth ; J flill tell my tale, and rejoices in my long, And my boy thinks my life: not a moment too long. Let the courtiers, those dealers in grin and gri- mace, Creep under, dance over, for title or place ; Above all the titles that flow from the throne, That of honeit I prize, and that title's my own. S ON G. Snng by~ Mr. Shuter, in the Maid of the Mill. Y OU vile pack of vamen~gabonds, what do you ]'tl maul you rarcaions, Ye tatter-demallions-- If one of you comes w~ithin reach of my cane, Such cursed afforance, 'Tis pall all indurance. Nay, nay, pray come away, They're tyars and thieves, And he that believes, Their fooljih predidtions, Will find themm but £8~ions, A bubbic chat always deceives. H- SONE\ G1 ( 74 S ON G. Sun~g by Mr. Di'oden, in the Maid of the 191111. 148 H HENh you meet a tender creaiture, . Near~ in limnb, and fair in fe~ature, Fullof kindoefs and good nature, Prov~e as kind agatn as the; Happy mortal ! to posses he-r. In your bdiom warm, and prels her. Morning, noon, and nighit cardfs her, And br as fond, as fond can be. Eut it one y~ou meet that's froward, Saucy, jil:ing, and untoward, Should you abt the w-hining coward, 'T'is to m~end her n'er the whit, Nothing's tough enough to bind her, Trhen agog, wh~en oncer you Eind her, Let her go, and -ver mind her ; Hleart alive, you're fairly quit. S ON 6. UN'DER THE ROSEI Sur·g by lilr. Vernon. Sol by) Mr. Potter. LAS T idfummer eve, as I pars'd thro' the I met with young Phillis, the godders of love; My heart was transported. you well may f~uppole. I gave her a kifs--but 'tw~as underr the Ro/P, She flarted and blufh'd, and replied with a frown, ** Don't fancy, young swain, I'll be kifs'd by a clown ; '* I'm le~'d by young Strephon--fee yonder he goes: $t illI gav-e her a kiifs-but 'was under the Rore. ** Come. ** Come, come, dearef charmer," I tenderly cry'dr ** I care not for Strephon ; flI not be dery d ** He's false: to young Phillis he very well knows, ** My heart is right honett, tho' under the Role. ** If Strephon be falle, what has Phillis to do ?" (She· anfiver d in anguish) 1* No rnen s~ure are true.", ·' O yes, my dear girl; (r reply'd) done fuppole ' But Damon is conltant, tho' under the Rop." If you love me, (she cry d) here then freely I give ** MLy heart and affKStion as long as I live."· SI led her to church, and the does not luppole But Damon Is cunitant, tho' undier theP Rje./ SON G. Sung by Mrs Smith. Sct by Mr. Smith. MYColin leaves fair London town, Its pomp and pride and noile; With eager halte he hies him down, To calle of rural joys. Soon as my much lov'd [~wain's in fight My heart is mad with glee ; I never know such true delight As when hie comes to me How iweet with him all day to rove, And range thle meadows wide I Nor yet leis sweet the moonlight grove, All by the river's fide ! The gaudy seasons pass away, How rwift, when Colin's by ! H~ow iwiftly glides the flow'ry IMiy, How fall the summers fly ! Wheai ( 6 :When Colin comes to grae the plains, An hum~ble crook he bears; Me tends the flocks like other fwvains, 4 thepherd quite appears. All in the verdant reorth of May, The rake is all his pride ; He helps to make the new-mown hay With Moggy by his fide ! 'Cainflyellow A utumin's milder reign, His fickle he prepares He reaps the hatvelt on the p~lain, All pleas'd w·ith rurall cares. With jocond dance the night is crown'd, When all the toil is o'er, With him I trip it on the ground, With bonny iwains a score. When winter's gloomy months prevail, If Colin is but here, His jovial laugh and merry tale, To me are muckle cheer. The folk that chulr in town to dw\e!!, Are fromn my envy free, For Moggly lovfts the plains too well, And Colin's all to me, FINI S. glb.