Let us, like them, then fing and play
About the birks of Invermay.

Hark how the waters, as they fa',
Loudly my love to gladnefs ca';
The wanton waves fport in the beams,
And fishes play throughout the streams;
The circling fun does now advance,
And all the planets round him dance;
Let us as jovial be as they
Amang the birks or Invermay.

SONG 259.

BUSY, curious, thirsty fly,

Drink with me, and drink as I,
Freely welcome to my cup,
Could't thou fip, and fip it up :
Make the most of life you may;
Life is short, and wears away.

Both alike are mine and thine,
Haft'ning quick to their decline;
Thine's a fummer, mine no more,
Tho' repeated to threefcore:

Threefcore fummers, when they're gone,.

Will appear as short as one.

SONG 260.

HERE's a health to the king and alafting peace,

May faction be damn'd, and difcord cease:
Come, let us drink it, while we've breath,
For there's no drinking after death.
And he that won't with this comply,
Down among the dead men,
Down among the dead men,

Down, down, down

among the dead men, let him ly.

Now a health to the queen, and may The long
Be our first fair toaft, to grace our song ;
Off wi' your hats, wi' your knee on the ground,
Take off your bumpers all around :

And he that will not drink his dry,

Down among, &c.

Let charming beauty's health go round,
In whom celeftial joys are found:
And may confufion still pursue

The fenfelefs woman hating crew:

.

And he that will this health deny,

Down among, &c.

Here's thriving to trade and the common- -weal,
And patriots to their country leal;

But who for bribes gives Satan his foul,
May he ne'er laugh o'er a flowing bowl:
And all that with fuch rogues comply,

Down among, &c.

In fmiling Bacchus's joys I'll roll,
Deny no pleasures to my foul:

Let Bacchus's health round fwiftly move;
For Bacchus is a friend to love :
And he that doth this health deny,
Down among, &c.

SONG 261.

SUSANNA.

"TWAS when the feas were roaring

With hollow blasts of wind,

A damfel lay deploring,

All on a rock reclin'd ;
Wide o'er the foaming billows,
She caft a wifhful look ;

Her head was crown'd with willows
That trembled o'er the brook.

Twelve months were gone and over,
And nine long tedious days;
Why didst thou vent'rous lover,
Why didft thou trust the feas?
Ceafe, ceafe, thou troubled ocean,
And let my lover rest;
Ah! what's thy troubled motion
To that within my breaft?

The merchant, rob'd of treasure,

Views tempefts with despair; But what's the lofs of treasure To lofing of my dear? Should you fome coaft be laid on, Where gold and diamonds grow, You'd find a richer maiden, But none that loves you fo.

Thus melancholy lying,

Thus vail'd fhe for her dear; Repaid each blaft with fighing, Each billow with a tear: When o'er the white waves ftooping, His floating corpfe she spied;

Then, like a lily drooping,

She bow'd her head,-and died.

SONG 262.

Sung in the BEGGAR'S OPERA.

Tune, Cotillon.

YOUTH's the feafon made for joys,

Love is then our duty;

She alone who that employs,

Well deferves her beauty.

Beauty's a flower defpis'd in decay;

Youth's the feafon, &c.

Let us drink and fport to-day,

Our's is not to-morrow;
Love with youth flies fwift away,
Age is nought but forrow.

Dance and fing, time's on the wing, Life never knows the return of fpring. CHORUS. Let us drink, &c.

**