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ST CECILIA;

O R,

The BRITISH SONGSTER.

F

SONG 1.

ILL your glaffes, banish grief,
Laugh, and worldly cares defpife;
Sorrows ne'er will bring relief,
Joys, from drinking, may arise.

For, why fhould we for worldly care,
Spoil what nature's made so fair :

Then drink, and fet your hearts at reft;
And of a bad bargain make the best.

Bufy minds, we know, alas!

With imagination run;

Like the fand, in the hour-glafs,
Runs and runs, and ftill runs on.

Never knowing where to ftay,
But uneafy every way:

Then drink, &c.

A

Some pursue the winged wealth, Others to honour doth afpire; Give me freedom, give me health, That's the fum of my defire.

Altho' the world doth more prefent,

It addeth not to my content:

Then drink, &c.

Love, when mingled with good wine, Makes the heart both light and free; Let it rain, fnow, or fhine,

Still its the fame thing unto me.

For there's no ftanding 'gainft our fate,

Daily changes on us wait:

Then drink, &c..

.

SONG 2.

THE SOLDIER'S MEDLEY.

THE lark was up, and the morning grey,

The drummer beat the reveille;

And jolly foldiers on the ground,

In peaceful camp flept fafe and found:
Only one poor foldier, who

Nought but love could e'er fubdue,
Wander'd to a neighb'ring grove,

There to vent his plaints and love.

O! women are lovely dangerous things,

Their fweets, like the bees, are mingled with ftings;
They're not to be had without care and coft;
They're hard to be kept, and easily loft:
In feeking a fair one, I found to my smart,
I knew not the way I loft my own heart,
I knew not the way I loft my own heart.

Too fondly once I thought to win the lovely charmer,

And ev'ry method try'd in hopes to make her

warmer:

But all my hopes are over, what scheme then can
I try?

But, like a haplefs lover, here lay me down and die.
As on the ground he lay,
Minerva came that way,
In arms bright and gay,

And thus to him did say:

Rife, foldier, rife;-the drummer beats to arms, Hark to the loud alarms;

Hang her beauty, mind your duty,

Think not of her charms.

Rife, foldier, rife ;-I'll take you by the hand,

And lead you to the land,

And give you the command
Of a chofen band.

Rife, foldier, rife;
Don't be ftupid,

A

Drive away Cupid,

Think on Minerva's wife advice...

Soldier, go home, go home,

Ne'er mind your mistress's fcorn;

Slight, flight her again,

Slight, flight her again,

For flighted love fhould flights return..

The foldier then rofe from his am'rous floth,.
And hafted away to his duty;

Swore to Minerva a terrible oath,

He'd never think more of her beauty.
Sing bachelor bluff, bachelor bluff,
Hey for a heart as flout as a buff..

Thofe that live fingle they never wear horns,
Thofe that live fingle are happy ;
Thofe that are married do lye upon thorns,
They always go ragged and fhabby.

Sing cuckolds come dig, cuckolds come dig,
Round about cuckolds come dance to my jig.

Thofe that live fingle do ne'er fear a rout,
Nothing to them can be sweeter;

They have no wife for to fimper and pout,
Crying, How can you leave me, dear Peter !
Sing batchelor bluff, batchelor bluff,
Hey for a heart as fout as a buff,

Yê belles and flirts, that are so fair,
Say, are not foldiers form'd for love?

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