The charms of her mind he alone did commend,
Not warm'd as a lover, but cool as a friend;
From friendship, not paffion, his raptures did move,
And the fwain bragg'd his heart was a stranger to love

New charms he difcover'd, as more he was known,
Her face grew a wonder, her tafte was his own;
Her manners were gentle, her sense was refin'd,
And oh! what dear virtues beam'd forth in her mind;
Yet ftill for the fanction of friendship he ftrove,
Till a figh gave the omen, and shew'd it was love.

Now proud to be conquer'd, he fighs for the fair, Grows dull to all pleasure but being with her, He's mute, while his heart-ftrings are ready to break,. For the fear of offending forbids him to speak, And wanders a willing example to prove, That friendship with women is fifter to love.

A lover thus conquer'd can ne'er give offence, Not a dupe to her fmiles, but a flave to her fense; His paffion, nor wrinkles, nor age can allay, Since founded on that which can never decay; And time, that will beauty's fhort empire remove, Increafing her reafon, increases his love.

SONG

CCXXXV.

A FAVOURITE SONG.

Tune,-Shepherds I have loft my love.

ERE each morn and ev'ry eve,

H1

In dewy ray returning,

Shall fhare the forrows that I breathe,
Shall witnefs to my mourning.

Echo catch the plaintive lay,

To her heart discover,

T

How for her forlorn I stray,

How well, how true I love her.

If forbidden to renew

The vows which once we plighted, My Lydia's fate I will pursue,

In death, at least, united.

The latest breath that warms this clay,
At parting fhall discover

How I figh my foul away,

How dear, how well I love her.

HE tither morn,

TH When I forlorn,

Aneath an aik fat moaning,

I did na trow
I'd fee my jo
Befide me 'gain the glowming;
Bet he, fu' trig,

Lap o'er the rig,
And dawtingly did chear me,
When I, whatreck,

Did least expect
To fee my laddie near me.

His bonnet he

A thought ajee

Cock'd fprush when first he clasp'd me,

And I, I wat,

Wi' fainness grat

While in his grips he press'd me.

De'il tak' the war

I late and air

Ha'e wish'd fince Jock departed,

Sz

But now as glad

I'm wi' my lad

As fhortfyne broken hearted.

Fu' aft at e'en,

Wi' dancing keen,

When a' were blithe and merry,
I car'dna by,
Sae fad was I,
In abfence o' my deary;
But praise be blest,
My mind's at reft,
I'm happy wi' my Johnny,
At kirk and fair,

I'fe ay be there,
And be as canty's ony.

SONG

CCXXXVII.

HARK THE JOY INSPIRING HORN.

Sung by Mifs Catley.

ARK, hark the joy infpiring horn
Salutes the rofy rising morn,

And echoes thro' the dale;

With clam'rous peals the hills refound,
The hounds quick scented fcour the ground,
And fnuff the fragrant gale.

Nor gates nor hedges can impede
The brifk, high-mettled, ftarting fteed,

The jovial pack pursue ;

Like light'ning darting o'er the plains,
The diftant hills with speed he gains,
And fees the game in view.

Her path the timid hare forfakes,
And to the copfe for shelter makes,
There pants a while for breath;

When now the noise alarms her ear,
Her haunt's defcry'd, her fate is near,
She fees approaching death.

Directed by the well known breeze,
The hounds their trembling victim feize,
She faints, fhe falls, fhe dies;
The distant courfers now come in,
And join the loud triumphant din,
Till echoes rend the skies.

ITH a chearful old friend, and a merry old fong, And a tankard of porter, I could fit the night long,

And laugh at the follies of thofe that repine,

Tho' I must drink porter, while they can drink wine.

I

envy no mortal, be he ever fo great,

Nor fcorn I the wretch for his lowly estate;
But what I abhor, and deem as a curse,
Is meannefs, of fpirit, not poornefs of purse.

Then let us, companions, be chearful and gay,
And chearfully spend life's remainder away;
Upheld by a friend, our foes we'll defpife,
For the more we are envy'd the higher we rife.

SONG

CCXXXIX.

XX

THERE

HERE was a jolly miller once liv'd on the river
Dee,

He danc'd and he fang from morn to night, no lark fo blithe as he,

And thus the burthen of his fong for ever us'd to be, I care for nobody, no not I, if nobody cares me.

I live by my mill, God blefs her! fhe's kindred, child, and wife,

I would not change my station for any other in life;
No lawyer, furgeon, or doctor, e'er had a groat from me,
I care for nobody, no not I, if nobody cares for me.

When spring begins its merry career, oh! how his heart grows gay,

No fummer's drought alarms his fears, nor winter's cold decay;

No forefight mars the miller's joy, who's wont to fing and fay,

Let others toil from year to year, I live from day to day.

Thus, like the miller, bold and free, let us rejoice

and fing,

The days of youth are made for glee, and time is on the

wing;

This fong fhall pafs from me to thee, along the jovial

ring,

Let heart and voice and all agree, to fay, long live the

King.

040

CCXL.

W

SONG

HEREVER I'm going, and all the day long,
At home and abroad, or alone in a throng,

I find that my paffion's fo lively and strong,

That your name, when I'm filent, ftill runs in my fong. Sing balin a mone ora, &c.

A kifs of your fweet lips for me.

Since the first time I faw you I take no repose,
I sleep all the day to forget half my woes,
So hot is the flame in my ftomach that glows,
By St. Patrick I fear it will burn thro' my cloaths.
Sing balin a mone ora, &c.

Your pretty black hair for me.