So fweet your time shall pass away
With Strephon of the hill.

We went to church with hearty glee,
O love, propitious still!
May every nymph be blest like me
With Strephon of the hill.

A HUNTING SONG.

WHEN Sol from the caft has illumin'd the sphere,

And gilded the lawns and the riv❜lets so clear, I rofe from my tent, and, like Richard, I call'd For my horfe and my hounds too loudly I bawl'd. Hark, forward, my boys! Billy Meadows he cry'd, No fooner he spoke but old Reynard he spy'd; Over-joy'd at the fight we began for to skip, Ton-ta-ron went the horn, and crack went the whip.

Tom Bramble fcour'd forth, when almost to the chin, O'er-leaping a ditch-by the Lord, he leap'd in; When just as it hap'd, but the fly mafter ren' Was fneakingly haft'ning to make to his den; Then away we purfu'd, broke covert and wood, Not a quickfet nor thickfet our pleasures withstood: So ho! mafter Reynard, Jack Rivers he cry'd, Old ren' you shall die, Daddie Hawthorn reply'd.

All gay as the lark the green woodlands we trac'd, ' While the merry ton'd horn inspir'd as we chac'd; No longer poor Reynard his ftrength could he boat, To the hounds he knock'd under, and gave up the ghost. The fports of the field when concluded and o'er, We found the horn back again over the moor: At night take the glafs, and most chearfully fing The fox-hunters round, not forgetting the King.

CCLVIII.

SONG

JEMMY AND NANNY.

Sung by Mrs Arne at Ranelagh. Set by Dr Arne.

W

HEN innocent pastimes our pleasures did crown, Upon a green meadow or under a tree, E'er Nanny became a fine lady in town, How lovely, and loving, and bonny was she? Rouse up thy reafon, my beautiful Nanny,

Let no new whim take thy fancy from me;
Oh! as thou art bonny, be faithful as any,
Favour thy Jemmy, who doats upon thee.

Can the death of a linnet give Nanny the spleen?
Can lofing of trifles a heart-aching be?
Can lap-dogs or monkies draw tears from thofe een,
That look with difdain on unfortunate me?
Rouse up thy reafon, my beautiful Nanny,
Scorn to prefer a vile parrot to me:
Oh! as thou art bonny, be faithful as any,
Think on thy Jemmy, who doats upon thee.

O think, my dear charmer, on ev'ry sweet hour,
That flides away faftly between thee and me;
E'er fquirrels and beaux and their fopp'ry had pow'r,
To rival my love and impofe upon thee.
Rouse up thy reafon, my beautiful Nanny,
Let thy defires be all center'd in me:
Oh! as thou art bonny, be prudent as any,
Love thy own Jemmy, who doats

upon thee.

BEAUTY AND MUSIC.

YE. fwains, when radiant beauty moves,

Or mufic's art with power divine,

Think how the rap'trous charm improves,
Where two fuch gifts celeftial join.

Where Cupid's bow and Phœbus' lyre,
In the fame powerful hand are found;
Where lovely eyes inflame defire,

Where trembling notes are taught to wound.

Inquire not who's the matchlefs fair

That can this double death beftow;
If young Harmonia's strains you hear,
Or view her eyes, too foon you'll know.

SONG

CCLX.

MY HEART WENT TO THE FAIR.

A

Sung at Vauxhall. Written by Mr Berwick.

S down the cowflip dale I stray'd,
One morning with the dawn,

Young Damon for the fair array'd,
Came tripping o'er the lawn.
His auburn locks with manly grace,
In flowing ringlets hung;

The bloom of health glow'd in his face,
And blythe the fhepherd fung.

Then onward drew, and, as he pass'd,
He fmiling bade good day :
Entranc'd I gaz'd, till, oh! at last,
I gaz'd my heart away.
That moment all to love refign'd,
Each fenfe feem'd to declare;

Tho' hapless I was left behind,
My heart went to the fair.

In vain my anguish to remove,
To once-lov'd fcenes I fly

The rofe-deck'd bow'r, the pine-topp'd grove,

Seem fading to my eye.

Thou gentle youth, by nature kind,

A maiden's blushes spare ; Perceive, tho' fhe was left behind, My heart went to the fair.

Hark! the trumpet founds to arms ;
Adieu my joys!

Ah! the thousand fears I

prove,

For thy life, and for thy love.

HE.

Ceafe thy plaints, and dry thy tears,
My charming maid!

Ceafe thy plaints, and dry thy tears,
Nor fate upbraid.

Heaven, that makes mankind its care,
Guards the brave, to ferve the fair.

SONG CCLXII.

THE GOLDFINCH TO CHLO E.

RECITATIVE.

O Handel's pleafing notes as Chloe fung
The charms of heav'nly liberty,

T1

A gentle bird, till then with bondage pleas'd,
With ardour panted to be free;

U

His prifon broke, he feeks the diftant plain;
Yet e'er he flies, tunes forth this parting ftrain.

AIR.

Whilft to the distant vale I wing,
Nor wait the flow return of spring,
Rather in leaflefs groves to dwell,
Than in my Chloe's warmer cell.
Forgive me, miftrefs, fince by thee
I firit was taught sweet liberty.

Soon as the welcome spring shall chear
With genial warmth the drooping year,
I'll tell upon the topmost spray,
Thy fweeter notes improv'd my lay,
And in my prifon learn'd from thee
To warble forth fweet liberty.

Waste not on me an useless care,
That kind concern let Strephon fhare;
Slight are my forrows, flight my ills,
To thofe which he poor captive feels,
Who kept in hopeless bonds by thee,
Yet ftrives not for his liberty.

SONG

CCLXIII.

CUPID TRIUMPHANT.

NOW

OW'S the time for mirth and glee,
Sing and love, and laugh with me;

Cupid is my theme of story,

"Tis his godship's praife and glory, How all yield into his law.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

O'er the grave, and o'er the gay, Cupi takes his fhare of play: