SONG LXII.

HOW happy are we,

Who from thinking are free,
That curbing disease of the mind,
Can indulge every taste,
Love where we like best,
Not by dull reputation confin'd!

When we're young, fit to toy,
Gay delights we enjoy,

And have crowds of new lovers ftill wooing;
When we're old and decay'd,

We procure for the trade, Still in every age we are doing.

If a cully we meet,

We spend what we get
Every day, for the next never think;
When we die, where we go

We have no sense to know,
For a bawd always dies in her drink.

ONE

SONG LXIII.

NE April morn, when from the fea
Phoebus was just appearing,

Damon and Celia young and gay,

Long fettled love endearing,
Met in a grove, to vent their spleen
On parents unrelenting;

He bred of Tory race had been,

She of the tribe dissenting.

Celia, whofe eyes outshone the god,
Newly the hills adorning,

Told him, mamma would be stark mad,
She miffing prayers that morning;
Damon, his arm about her waist,

Swore, that nought should them funder.
Shou'd my rough dad know how I'm blefs'd,
"Twou'd make him roar like thunder.

Great ones made by ambition blind,
By faction still support it,

Or where vile money taints the mind,
They for convenience court it:
But mighty Love, that scorns to fhew
Party fhou'd raise his glory,
Swears he'll exalt a vaffal true,
Let it be Whig or Tory.

AMONGST the willows on the grafs

Where nymphs and shepherds ly,

Young Willy courted bonny Bess;
And Nell stood lift'ning by;

Says Will, we will not tarry

Two months before we marry.

No, no, fie no, never, never tell me so,
For a maid I'll live and die :

Says Nell, fo fhall not I.

Says Nell, &c.

Long time betwixt hope and despair,
And kiffes mix'd between,

He with a fong did charm her ear,

Thinking she chang'd had been;

Says Will, I want a blessing,
Subftantialer than kiffing.

No, no, fie no, never, never tell me so,
For I will never change my mind.
Says Nell, he'll prove more kind.
Says Nell, &c.

Smarting pain the virgin finds,
Altho' by nature taught,
When she first to man inclines:
Quoth Nell, I'll venture that.
Oh! who wou'd lose a treasure,
For fuch a puny pleasure !

Not I, not I, no, a maid I'll live and die,
And to my vow be true.

Quoth Nell, the more fool you.
Quoth Nell, &c.

To my closet I'll repair,

And read on godly books,

Forget vain love and worldly care.

Quoth Nell, that likely looks.

You men are all perfidious,

But I will be religious,

Try all, fly all, and while I breathe defy all,

Your fex I now despise.

Says Nell, by Jove fhe lies.

Says Nell, &c.

SONG LXV.

ELINDA fure's the brightest thing

SE

That decks the earth, or breathes our air;

Mild are her looks like opening spring,

And like the blooming summer fair.

But then her wit's so very small,
That all her charms appear to ly,
Like glaring colours on a wall,

And ftrike no further than the eye.
Our eyes luxuriously she treats,

Our ears are absent from the feast,
One fenfe is furfeited with fweets,
Starv'd and disgusted are the rest.

So have I feen with aspect bright,
And taudry pride, a tulip fwell,
Blooming and beauteous to the fight,
Dull and infipid to the smell.

SONG LXVI.

A TRIFLING fong ye shall hear,

Begun with a trifle and ended;

All trifling people draw near,

And I shall be nobly attended.

Were it not for trifles a few,

That lately came into the play,
The men would want fomething to do,
The women want something to say.

What makes men trifle in dreffing?
Because the ladies, they know,

Admire, by often caressing,

That eminent trifle, a beau.

When the lover his moments has trifled, The trifle of trifles to gain,

No fooner the virgin is rifled,

But a trifle shall part them again.

What mortal wou'd ever be able,
At Whyte's half a moment to fit?
Or who is't cou'd bear a tea-table,
Without talking trifles for wit?

The court is from trifles fecure,

Gold keys are no trifles we fee; White rods are no trifles I'm sure, Whatever their bearers may be.

But if you will go to the place,
Where trifles abundantly breed;
The levee will shew you, his Grace
Makes promises trifles indeed!

A coach with fix footmen behind,
I count neither trifle nor fin;
But, ye gods! how oft do we find
A fcandalous trifle within ?

A flask of Champaign people think it
A trifle, or something as bad;
But if you'll contrive how to drink it,
You'll find it no trifle, by Gad.

A parfon's a trifle at sea,

A widow's a trifle in forrow,

A peace is a trifle to-day,

To break it a trifle to-morrow.

A black coat a trifle may cloak,

Or to hide it the red may endeavour; :;

But if once the army is broke,

We shall have more trifles than ever.

The stage is a trifle, they say,

The reason pray carry along; Because that at every new play,

The house they with trifles fo throng.