I told her, at last, that her pasfions were wrong, And more, that I scorn’d to be fool'd with so long : She burst out a laughing at seeing me fret, And humming a tune, cry'd, 'tis time enough yet, Time enough yet, &c. Determin’d by her to be laugh'd at no more, Never to fet, &c. To me the next morning her maid came in haste, And begg’d, for God's fake, I'd forget what was past, Declar'd her young lady did nothing but fret ; I told her, I'd think on’t, 'twas time enough yet, Time enough yet, &c. She next, in a letter as long as my arm, Time enough yet, &c. But that was scarce gone when a message I fent, So are we yet, &c. Tune-Good-night and Joy be evi' you s'. OW happy is be, whoe'er he be, That in his lifetime meets one true friend, Who cordially does fympathize In words, in action, heart, and mind; , My kind respects do not neglect, my wealth or state be small; With a melting heart, and a mournful eye, I beg the Lord be wi’ you all. My loving friends, I kiss your hands, , For time invites me now to move ; On your poor servant lay commands, Who is ambitious of your love. He—whose pow'r and might, both day and night, Governs the depths, makes rain to fall, To sun and moon gives course of light, Direct, protect, defend you all. I do protest, within my breaft, Your memory I'll not neglect ; No change shall ever alter it. my God will grant me this : Good night, and God be wi' మనం - 06 - 09 - 10 - Toor-00000 - cover 6000 - - - - - I hope you all. S O N G CLIII. SOMETHING ELSE TO DO. TH HE sun was sleeping in the main, Bright Cynthia filver'd all the plain, He swore he did efteem her more Talk'd much of death, shou'd se refuse, Her pride then Colin thus addrest, S O N G CLIV. SHEPHERD'S COMPLAINT, Y E shepherds, who, bleft in your loves, Live strangers to sorrow and care, O! pity a brother, that proves The heart-breaking pangs of despair. What boots it my heifers and ewes All thriving and pregnant I find? Poor bleffings, poor comforts are these, Since Peggy is false and unkind. Bear witness, each fountain and vale, Bear witness, each garden and grove, How oft she has heard my fond tale, And smild on the suit of my love. But, oh cruel change that I find, The gentle is now grown severe, That blasts the young buds of the year. Range wildly, my flocks and my herds; Begone from your master, poor Tray ; My pipe shall no more wake the birds, I'll break it and Aing it away. Some desart all barren and blake, Shall fhield me from every eye ; There, Peggy, I'll weep for thy fake, weep, cruel maid, and I'll die. I'll H I G H L A N D MARC H. I , N the garb of old Gaul, wi' the fire of old Rome, Where the Romans endeavour'd our country to gain, But our ancestors fought, and they fought not in vain. Snch our love of liberty, our country, and our laws, That, like our old ancestors, we stand by Freedom's cause ; We'll bravely fight, like heroes bold, for honour and applause, And defy the French, with all their art, to alter our laws. No effeminate customs our sinews unbrace, Such our love, &c. We're tall as the oak on the mount of the vale, Such our love, &c. As a storm in the ocean when Boreas blows, M Quebec and Cape Breton, the pride of old France, Such our love, &c. In our realm may the fury of faction long cease, kind, Then we'll defend our liberty, our country, and our laws, And teach our late pofterity to fight in Freedom's cause, That they, like our ancestors bold, for honour and ap plause, May defy the French and Spaniards to alter our laws. S O N G CLVI. DE’IL TAK THE WARS. D E’IL tak the wars that hurried Billy from me, Who to love me just had sworn; Woe's me! he'll ne'er return. He from thousands ne'er will run : I us'd alluring graces, With muckle kind embraces, And had he mv soft arms grown mad, without the man of God, I fear in my fit I had granted all. By love |