Whene'er he trips the meads along,
He fweetly joins the woodlark's fong;
And when he dances on the green,
There's none fo blithe as Colin feen
If he's but nigh, I nothing fear,
For I alone am all his care.
Then, fpite of all my friends can fay,
He's ftole my tender heart away!
My mother chides whene'er I roam,
And feems furpris'd I quit my home;
But fhe'd not wonder that I rove,
Did the but feel how much I love ;
Full well I know the gen'rous fwain,
Will never give my bofom pain:
Then, fpite of all my friends can say,
He's ftole my tender heart away!
BLITHE JOCKEY.
My Jockey is the blithest lad'
That e'er young maid did woo;
When he appears, my heart is glad,
For he is kind and true.
He talks of love whene'er we meet,
His words in rapture flow;
Then tunes his pipe and fings fo fweet,
I have not pow'r to go..
All other laffes he forfakes,
And flies to me alone;
At ev'ry fair, or other wakes,
I hear the maiden's moan.
He buys me toys and sweetmeats too,
And ribbands for my hair:
What fwain was ever half fo true,
Or half fo kind and fair?
Where'er I go, I nothing fear,
If Jockey is but by ;
For I alone am all his care,
Whenever danger's nigh.
He vows to wed next Whitsunday,
And make me bleft for life;
Can I refufe, ye maidens, fay,
To be young Jockey's wife?
COME jolly Bacchus, god of wine,
Crown this night with pleasure;
Let none at cares of life repine,
To deftroy our pleasure ;
Fill up the mighty fparkling bowl,
That every true and loyal foul,
May drink and fing without controul To fupport our pleasure.
Thus, mighty Bacchus, fhalt thou be
Guardian of our pleasure,
That, under thy protection, we
May enjoy our pleasure ;
And, as the hours glide away, We'll in thy name invoke their stay, And fing thy praises, that we may Live and die in pleasure.
To the Tune of, God fave the King.
HAIL, MASONRY divine;
Glory of ages fhine,
Long may'ft thou reign: Where'er thy Lodges ftand, May they have great command, And always grace the land, Thou art divine!
Great fabrics ftill arife,
And grace the azure skies,
Great are thy schemes:
Thy noble orders are
Matchlefs beyond compare ;
No Art with thee can share,
Thou Art divine!
Hiram the architect,
Did all the Craft direct
How they fhould build;
Sol'mon, great Ifr'el's king,
Did mighty bleffings bring,
And left us room to fing,
Hail, royal Art.
HIGHLAND QUEEN.
No more my fong fha'l be, ye fwains,
Of purling streams, or flow'ry plains;
More pleafing beauties me infpire,
And Phoebus tunes the warbling lyre:
Divinely aided, thus I mean.
To celebrate my Highland Queen.
In her, fweet innocence you'll find, With freedom, truth, and beauty join'd; From pride and affectation free,
Alike the fmiles on you and me :
The brightest nymph that trips the green,
I do pronounce my Highland Queen.
No fordid with or trifling joy,
Her fettled calm of mind destroy;
Strict honour fills her fpotlefs foul,
And adds a luftre to the whole :
A matchless shape, a graceful mien,
All center in my Highland Queen.
How bleft that youth, whom gentle fate
Has deftin'd for fo fair a mate ;
Has all these wond'ring gifts in ftore,
And each returning day brings more.
No youth fo happy can be seen,
Poffeffing thee, my Highland Queen.
HIGHLAND KING.
YE Mufes nine, O lend your aid,
Infpire a tender bafhful maid,
That's lately yielded up her heart,
A conqueft to love's pow'rful dart ;
And now would fain attempt to fing
The praises of my Highland King.
Jamie, the pride of all the green,
Is juft my age, e'en gay fifteen :
When firft I faw him, 'twas the day
That ufhers in the fprightly May;
When first I felt Love's pow'rful fting,
And figh'd for my dear Highland King.
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