Ye cities, for the chace, quit the joys of the town, And fcorn the dull pleasure of fleeping in town; Uncertain your toil, or for honour or wealth; Ours ftill is repaid with contentment and health. Then bark, &c.

SONG 58.

The Huntfman's Call.

Do you hear, brother sportsman, the found of

the horn,

And yet the fweet pleasure decline;

For fhame, rouze your fenfes, and ere it is morn, With me the sweet melody join.

Thro' the wood and the valley the traitor we'll rally,

Nor quit him, till panting he lies;

While hounds, in full cry, thro' hedges fhall fly, And chace the fwift hare till fhe dies.

Then faddle your ftead to the meadows and fields,
Both willing and joyous repair;

No paftime in life greater happiness yields,
Then chafing the fox or the hare.

For fuch comforts, my friend, on the sportsman attend,

No pleasure like hunting is found;

For when it is o'er, as brifk as before,
Next morning we fpurn up the ground.

SONG 59.

THO' my drefs and my manners are fimple and plain,

A raícal I hate, and a knave I disdain;

My dealings are juft, and my confcience is clear, And I'm richer than those who have thoufands a-year.

Tho' bent down with age, and for sporting uncouth,

I feel no remorfe for the follies of youth;

I ftill tell my tale, and rejoice in my fong,

And, my boys, think my age not a moment too long.

Let the courtiers, thofe dealers in grin and
grimace,

Creep under, dance over, for title or place ;
Above all the titles that flow from a throne,

That of honeft I prize, and that title's my own.

COME,

SONG 60.

The TUTOR.

, my faireft, learn of me, Learn to give and take the bliss ; Come, my love, here's none but we, I'll inftract thee how to kifs:

Why turn from me that dear face?

Why that blush and down caft eye? Come, come, meet my fond embrace, And the mutual rapture try.

Throw thy lovely twining arms
Round my neck, or round my waist ;
And, while I devour thy charms,
Let me clofely be embrac'd:

Then, what foft ideas rife,

And your gay defires grow ftrong;

Let them fparkle in thine eyes,

Let them murmur from thy tongue.

To my breast with rapture cling,
Look with transport on thy face;
Kifs me, prefs me, ev'ry thing,

To endear the fond embrace.

Ev'ry tender pame of love,

In foft whispers let me hear; And let fpeaking nature prove Every extacy fincere.

SONG 61.

SWEET ANNIE FRAE THE SEA-BEECH. SWEET Annie frae the fea beech came, Where Jocky fpeel'd the veffel's fide; Ah! wha can keep their heart at hame, When Jocky's toft aboon the tyde.

Far aff to diftant realms he

gangs,

Yet I'll be true as he has been;
And when ilk' lafa about him thrangs,
He'll think on me his faithfu' ain.

I met our wealthy laird yeftreen,
Wi' gou'd in hand he tempted me;
He prais'd my brow, my rolling een,

And made a brag o' what he'd gie.
What tho' my Jocky's far awa',

Toft up and down the awfome main,
I'll keep my heart anither day,
Since Jocky may return again.

Nae mair, falfe Jamie! fing nae mair,
And fairly caft your pipe away;

My Jocky wad be troubl'd fair,

To fee his friend his love betray:
For a' your fangs and verfé are vain,
While Jocky's notes do faithfu' flow;
My heart to him fhall true remain,
I'll keep it for my conftant jo.

Blaw faft, ye gales! round Jocky's head,
And gar your waves be ca'm and ftill;
His hameward fail with breezes speed,
And dinna a' my pleasure spill.
What tho' my Jocky's far away,
Yet he will braw in filler fhine;

I'll keep my heart anither day,
Since Jocky may again be mine.

SONG 62.

"SWEET ANNIE," tranflated from the Scots.

SWEET Annie flowly left the fhore,

Where Damon climb'd the vessel's fide;
Alas! my heart knows home no more,
Since Damon's tofs'd along the tide :
Yet fhall my heart ftill faithful prove,
For faithful ever is my fwain;
Abfent he thinks on Annie's love,
And foreign beauties charm in vain.

His gold let wealthy Strephon fhow,
And the foomth arts of flatt'ry try;.
And praife the polish of my brow,
Likewife the luftre of mine eye.
What tho' to diftant regions born,

My lover rides the awful deep,