How pleafing their fport is! the wanton ones fee, To try her fweet temper, oft times am I feen, In revels all day with the nymphs on the green: Tho' painful my abfence, my doubts fhe beguiles, And meets me at night with complacence and fmiles. What tho' on her cheeks the rofe lofes its hue, Her wit and good-humour blooms all the year thro'. Time ftill, as he flies, adds increase to her truth, And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth. Ye fhepherds fo gay, who make love to ensnare, And cheat, with falfe vows, the too credulous fair ; In fearch of true pleasure, how vainly you roam, To hold it for life, you must find it at home. WHEN Jeffy fmil'd, her lovely look My wand'ring heart a pris'ner took, And bound it with fo ftrong a chain, Then, Jeffy, treat a captive true Then take it kindly to thy breast, SONG CXLVII. THE ADDRESS. "TWIXT pleafing hope and painful fear, True love divided lies, Fyoung men your hearts fecure, ROM fweet bewitching tricks of love, Left in the paths of sense you rove, In dotage premature. Look at each lafs thro' wifdom's glaís, Gallants, beware, look fharp, take care, There's ne'er a spinfter in the realm Gallants beware, &c. Not only on their hands and necks Joy in diftrefs can they exprefs, Their very tears can lie. Gallants beware, &c. Could we with ink the ocean fill, TH SONG CXLIX. THE ANSWER. 'HO' women by proud men are scorn'd For being oft too kind, Yet all well know that men, when spurn'd, Are to their wills confin'd; With reftlefs pain, one fmile to gain, But, maids, beware, avoid the fnare, There's not a man, who, in his heart, They flatt'ring words apply. But, maids, beware, &c. They often ftrive, with artful tale, Each fair one to deceive, Then laugh within their fleeve; If, then, to rout the selfish crew, You'd chufe a faithful guard, I' SONG CL. THE APOLOGY. 'M forry, dear brethren, I'm forc'd to comply, To fing, you might as well bid me to fly; 'Tis true, I've a voice, fo has the town crier, If I fay mine's a better, I'm fure I'm a liar. However, to please you, altho' I be hoarse, If you'll take it, like marriage, for better for worfe. Now you've heard-nay, you've heard the best I can do, And I'm fure you're convinc'd what I told you was true. *KKKKKKI SONG CLI. TIME ENOUGH YET. A Term full as long as the fiege of old Troy, To win a fweet girl I my time did employ; I told her, at last, that her paffions were wrong, And more, that I fcorn'd to be fool'd with fo long: She burst out a laughing at feeing me fret, And humming a tune, cry'd, 'tis time enough yet, Determin'd by her to be laugh'd at no more, Or on her my eyes again never to fet, Never to fet, &c. To me the next morning her maid came in hafte, She next, in a letter as long as my arm, But that was scarce gone when a meffage I fent, Tune,-Good-night and Joy be wi' you a?. H That in his lifetime meets one true friend, OW happy is he, whoe'er he be, Who cordially does fympathize In words, in action, heart, and mind: |