SONG 43.

THE ABSENT LOVER.

YE gentle gales that fan the fair,
And wanton in the fhady grove,
O! whisper to my abfent fair,
My fecret pain, and endless love.

And, in the fultry heat of day

When she does feek fome cool retreat,

Throw fpicy odours in her way,

And scatter rofes at her feet.

That when the fees their colour fade,
And all their pride neglected lie,
Let that inftruct the charming maid,
That fweets untimely gather'd die.

And when the lays her down to rest,
Let fome aufpicious vifion fhow

Who 'tis that loves Camilla beft,
And what for her I undergo.

SONG 44

By Lord LYTTLETON.

THE heavy hours are almost past

That part my love and me;

My longing eyes may hope, at last,
Their only wish to fee:

But how, my Delia, will you meet
The man you've loft so long?
Will love in all your pulfes beat,
And tremble on your tongue?

Will you in every look declare
Your heart is ftill the fame
And heal each idly anxious care,
Our fears in abfence frame ?
Thus, Delia, thus I paint the fcene
When shortly we shall meet,
And try what yet remains, between,
Of loit'ring time to cheat.

But, if the dream that fooths my
Shall falfe and groundless prove;
If I am doom'd at length to find
You have forgot to love;

All I of Venus afk is this,
No more to let us join ;

mind

But grant me here the flatt'ring blifs

To die, and think

you mine.

SONG 45.

THE world is a well furnish'd table,

Where guests are promisc'ously set:

We all fare as well as we're able,

And scramble for what we can get. My fimile holds to a title;

Some gorge, while fome fcarce have a taste : But if I'm content with a little, Enough is as good as a feaft.

SONG 46.

To all my good friends thefe verfes I fend,

It is neither to beg nor to crave,

What tho' I be poor, and have not great ftore,
I'm content with the little I have.

I never for want, fhall look coldrife or fcant,
Tho' many there be that do fo;

But I'll merry be, love him that loves me,

And Leare not which way the world go. But I'll merry be, love him that loves me, And I care not which way the world go.

There's`many a miser has more than enough, Why should I repine at his blifs,

For I am content, with what heaven has fent, And I hope I've faid nothing amifs.

Let him enjoy wealth, and I my good health, With money to pay what I owe;

Then I'll laugh and fing, be as merry as a king,
And I care not which way the world go.
Then I'll, &c.

But I fhall take care, before that I'm gone,
What is all this gay world to me,

Why should I be fad, for what I ne'er had,
But amongst my good friends let it flee.
Left about my estate, there should be a debate,
When my head it is lying full low;

Some rogue may enjoy it, whom I never meant,
So I'll drink it which way the world go.
Some rogue may enjoy it, whom I never meant,
So I'll drink it which way the world go.

SONG 47.

Sung by MR BANNISTER.

WHEN 'tis night, and the mid-watch is come, And chilling mists hang o'er the darken'd main, Then failor's think of their far distant home, And of thofe friends they ne'er meet again : But when the fight's begun

Each ferving at his gun,

Should any thought of them come o'er our mind,
We think but should the day be won,
How 'twill chear their hearts to hear,

That their old companion he was one.

Or, my lad, if you a mistress kind,

Have left on fhore, fome pretty girl and true, Who many a night doth liften to the wind,

And wakes to think how it may fare with you. O! when the fight's begun,

Each ferving at his gun,

Should any thought of her come o'er your mind,
Think only fhould the day be won,
How 'twill chear her heart to hear,
That her own true failor he was one.

SONG 48.

An old bottle Song.

THE man that is drunk is void of all care ;
He needs neither Parthian, quiver or spear;
The Moor's poison'd dart he scorns for to wield,
His bottle alone is his weapon and shield.

Undaunted he goes among bullies and whores,
Demolishes windows, and breaks open doors;
He revels all night, is afraid of no evil,
And boldly defies both doctor and devil.

- As late I rode out with my skin full of wine, Incumber'd neither with care nor with coin, I boldly confronted a horrible dun; Affrighted as foon as he faw me, he run.