Then all in vain my sighs must prove,

When from a hazel's artless bow'r Whose whole estate, alas! is love.

Soft warbled Strephon's tonglie; How wretched is the faithful youthi,

He bless'd the scene, he bless'd the hour, Since women's hearts are bought and sold !

While Nancy's praise he lung.
They ask no vows of sacred truth ;

Let fops with fickle falsehood range
Whene'er they high, they sigh for gold: The paths of wanton love ;
Gold can the frowns of scorn remove;

Whilft weeping maids lament their change, But I am scorn'd-who have but love,

And sadden ev'ry grove :
To buy the gems of India's coast

But endless blessings crown the day
What wealth, wliat riches would suffice ? I saw fair Etham's dale ;
Yet India's shore should never boast

And ev'ry bletling find its way
The luftre of thy rival eyes ;

To Nancy of the vale.
For there the world too cheap must prove : 'Twas from Avona's bank the maid
Can I then buy-who have but love?

Diffus d her lovely beams;
Then, Mary, since nor gems nor ore

And ev'ry thining ylance display'd Can with thy brighter self compare,

The Naiad of the streams. Be just as fair, and value more

Soft as the wild-duck's tender young, Twan gems or ore a heart fincere :

That Hoat on Avon's tide ; Let treasure meaner beauties move;

Bright as the water-lily sprung Who pays thy worth must pay in love.

And glitt'ring near its fide.

Fresh as the bord'ring flow'rš her bloom, § 88. Song

Her eye all mild to vicw; WHAT beauties docs Flora disclose! The little halcyon's azure plume How sweet are her smiles upon Tweed !

Was never half so blue. But Mary's, still liveeter than those,

Her thape was like the reed, ro sleek, Both nature and fancy exceed.

So taper, straight, and fair ; No daily nor sweet blushing rose,

Her dimpled smile, her bluthing check, Nor all the guy fow'rs of the field,

How charming sweet they were ! Nor Tweed gliding gently thro' those,

Far in the winding vale retir'd Such beauty and pleasure can yield.

This peerless bud I found, The warblers are heard in each grove,

And thadowing rocks and woods conspir'd The linnet, the lark, and the thruth,

To fence her beauties round. The black bird, and sweet coming dove,

That nature in so lone a dell With music enchant ev'ry bush.

Should form a nymph so sweet Come, let us go forth to the mead,

Or fortune to her secret cell
Let us see how the priinrofes (pring :

Condućt my wand'ring feet !
We'll lodge in some village on Tweed,
And love while the feather'd folks sing.

Gay lordlings sought her for their bride,

But she would ne'er incline : How does my lore pass the long day?

Prove to your equals true; she cried,
Does Mary not tend a few theep?

As I will prove to mine.
Do they never carelessly ftray,
While happily the lies asleep?

'Tis Stiephon-on the mountain's brow Tweed's murmurs should lull her to rest ;

Has won my right good will; Kind nature indulging my bliss,

To him I gave my plighted vow, To relieve the soft pains of my breast

With him I'll climb the hill. I'd fteal an ambrosial kiss.

Struck with her charms and gentle truth, 'Tis she does the virgins excel,

I clafp'd the constant fair; No beauty with her can compare;

To her alone I give my youth,
Love's graces all round her do dwell,

And vow my future care.
She 's fairelt where thousands are fair. And when this vow thall faithless prove,
Say, charmer, where do thy flocks stray?

Or I these charms forego,
O tell me at noon where they feed !

The stream that saw our tender love, Shall I seek them on sweet winding Tay,

That ftrcam shall cease to Row. Or the pleasanter banks of the Tweed?

$90. Song. To the Memory of W. Sbenstone, E. $ $gSong. Nancy of toe Vale. SHENSTONE.

CUNNINGHAM THE HE western sky was purpled o'er COME, Shepherds, we'll follow the heark, With ev'ry pleasing ray,

And see our lov'd Corydon laid: And locks, reviving, felt no more

Tho' sorrow may blemish the verse, - The sultry heat of day;

Yet let the fad tribute be paid.
Ma

They

, BALL ADS, &c. § 9;. Song Rowe.

A friendship in'ensibly grows То

the brook and the willow, that heard him By reviews of fuch raprures as there,
complain,

And the current of fondness ftill flows,
Ah willow! willow!

Which decrepit old age cannot freeze.
Poor Colin went ivecping, and told them his pain.
Sweet stream, he cried, fauly I'll teach thee to How, § 97. Song: GILBERT COOPER.
And the waters thali rise to the brink wir mywoe. AWAY et nought to love difpleasing,
All restlefs and painful my Celia now lies, Mv Winifreda, move thy fear;
And counts theiad moments of time as it Hies : Let noughe delay the heavenly blelling,
To the nymph, my heart's love, ye loft Numbers, Nor Iqucamish pride, nor gloomy care.
repair,

[your care ; | What tho' no grants of royal donors Spread your downy wings o'er her, and make her Let me be left restle's, inine eyes never close,

With pompous titles grace our blood;

We'll thine in more fubiiantial honourse
So the sleep that I lose give my dear one repole.
Suveet ftrcam! if you chance by her pillow to creep: What tho' from fortune's lavish bounty

And to be noble, we'll be good.
Perhaps your soft murmurs may lull her to sleep.
But if I ain doom'd to be wretched indeed, No mighty trealures ive poflets,
And the loss of my charmer the fates have decreed, We'll find within our pirrance plenty,
Believe me, mou 'fair one, thou dear

one,
beiiere,

And be content without excets.
Few lighs to thy loss, and few tears will I give; Still fhall cach kind returning season
One fate to thy Colin and thee fall beride, Sufficient for our withes give;
And soon lay thy shepherd down by thy cold side. For we will live a life of reaton,
Then glide, gentle brook, and to lote thyself haste, And that's the only lite to live.
Bear this to my willow; this verse is my last.

Our name, while virtue thus we tender, Ah willow! willow | Ah willow ' willow

Shall 1weetly found where'er 'uis spoke,

And all the gre.it oncs much shall wonder § 96. Song.

How they adinire such little folk.
DEAR
EAR Chloe, while thus beyond measure
You treat me with doubts and disdain,

Thro' youth and age, in love excelling,
You rob all your youth of its pleasure,

We'll hand in hand together tread; And hoard up an old age of pain :

Sweet smiling peace full crown our dwelling, Your maxim, that love is still founded

And babes, tweet smiling babes, our bed. On charms that will quickly decay,

How should I love the pretty creatures, You will find to be very ill-grounded

Whilft round my knees they fondly clung, When once you its dictates obey.

To see them look their mother's features, The passion from beauty first drawn

To hear them lisp their mother's tongue ! Your kindness will vastly improve;

And when with envy time transported Soft looks and gay smiles are the dawn,

Shall think to rob us of our joys, Fruition's the funshine of love:

You 'll in your girls again be courted, And though the bright beams of your eyes And I 'll go wooing in my boys.

Should be clouded, that now are so gay, And darkness obfcure all the skies,

PERCY. We ne'er can forget it was day.

8 98. Song Old Darby, with Joan by his side,

O

Nor sigh to leave the Haunting town? You oft have regarded with wonder ;

Can filent glens have charms for thec,
He is dropfical, she is fore-eyed,

The lowly cot and russet gown?
Yet they 're ever uneasy afunder:
Together they rotter about,

No longer drett in filken sheen,

No longer deck'd with jewels rare,
And fit in the sun at the door ;

Say, canst thou quit each courtly scene,
And at night, when old Darby's pipe 's out,
His Joan will not fmoke a whiff more.

V.' here thou wert faireft of the fair?
No heauty or wit they possess,

O Nancy! wher thou 'rt far away, Their leveral failings to smoiher;

Wilt thou not cast a wish behind ? Then what are the charins, can you guess,

Say, canst thou face the parghing ray: That make them so fond of cach other!

Nor fhrink before the wintry wind! 'Tis the pleasing remembrance of youth,

O can that soft and gentle mwen The endearments that love did bestow,

Extremes of hardd ip learn to bear, The thoughts of past pleasure and truth,

Vor fad regret each courtly scene, The best of all blellings below,

Where thou wert fairest of the fair ? These traces for ever will last,

O Nancy ! canst thou love so true, Which sickness mor time can remove;

Thro' perils keen with me to go; For when youth and beauty are part,

Or, when thy swain mishap shall rue,
And age brings the winter of love,

To share with him the pang of woe
3 M 3

Say

Say. should disease or pain befal,

All the harm I with on thee, most courteous Wilt thou asume the nurse's care,

knight, Nor wistful those gay scenes recal

God grant upon my head the fame may fully light! Where thou wert faireit of inc fair ?

Blessed be the time and season And when at last thy love shall die,

That thou came on Spanish ground! Wilt thou receive his parting breath?

If you may our foes be termed, Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh,

Gentle foes we liave you found : And cheer with smiles the bed of death?

With our city, you have won our hearts each one, And wilt thou o'er his breathless clay

Then to your country bear away that is your own. Strew flow'rs, and drop the tender tear? Nor then regret those scenes fu ga',

“ Rest you still, most gallant lady; Where thou wert fairest of the fair?

Rest you still, and weep no more ;
Of fair ilowers you have plenty,

Spain doth yield you wondrous store."
99. Song:
MALLET.

Spaniards fraught with jealousy we oft do find, THE smiling morn, the breathing spring, But Englifhmen throughout the world art counted Invite the tuneful birds to sing ;

kind. And, while they warble from each (pray, Love melts the univerfal lav.

Leave me not unto a Spaniard, Let us, Amanda, timely wise,

Thou alone enjoy'st my heart; Like them iimprove the hour that flies;

I am lovely, young, and tender, And in soft raptures waste the day,

Love is likewise my desert: Among the shades of ENDERMAY !

Still to serve thee day and night my mind is pretti For soon the winter of the year,

The wife of ev'ry Englishman is counted bleft. And age, life's winter, will appear:

“ It would be a fame, fair lady, At this, thy living bloom must fade;

For to bear a woman hence; As tbut will strip the verdant hade.

English soldiers never carry Our taste of pleasure then is o'er;

Any such without offence.” The feather'd songsters love no niore :

I will quickly change myself, if it be so, And when they droop, and we decay,

And like a page will follow thee where'er thou go. Adieu the shades of ENDERMAY !

“ I have neither gold nor silver

To maintain thee in this case ; .

And to travel is $ 100. The Spanish Lady's Love.

great charges,

As you know in ev'ry place.”
WILL you hear a Spanish lady,
How the wood an English man ?

My chains and jewels ev'ry one shall be thyoun, Garments gay, as rich as may be,

And eke ten thousand pounds in gold that lics Deck'd with jewels had the on:

unknown.
Of a comcly countenance and grace was fhe, “ On the seas are many dangers,
Both by birth and parentage of high degree. Many storms do there arise,
As his prisoner there he kept her,

Which will be to ladies dreadful,
In his hands her life did lie;

And force tears from wat'ry cyes." Cupid's bands did tie them fafter,

Well, in' troth I shall endure extreinity, By the liking of an eye.

For I could find in heart to lose my life for thee, In his courteous company was all her joy, “ Courtcous lady, leave this folly, To favour him in any thing she was not coy. Here comes all that breeds the strife; But at last there came commandment

1, in England, have already For to fet all ladies free,

A sweet woman to my wife ; With their jewels fill adorned,

I will not fallify my vow for gold nor gain, None to do them injury.

Nor yet for all the faireft dames that live in Spain." O then, said this lady gay, full woe is me! o let me flill sustain this kind captivity!

O how happy is that woman

That enjoys fo true a friend ! Galant captain, fhcw some pity

Many happy days God fend her! To a lady in distress ;

And of my suit I'll make an end : Leave me not within this city,

On my knees I pardon crave for my offence, For to die in heaviness

Which love and truc affection did first commence, Thou hafi set, this present day, my body free,

Commend me to that gallant lady, But my heart in prison still remains with thee.

Bear to her this chiajn of gold, “ How shouldīt thoi, fair lady, love me, With thele bracelets, for a token;

Whom thou know's thy country's foe ? Gricring that I was so bold: Thy fair words make me fufpe&t thee; All my jewels, in like fort, take thou with thee; Serpents lie whole flowers grow.” For they are fiting for thy wife, but not for me.

I will

:

Į will spend my days in praver,

With that bespake their mother dear : Love and all his laws defy ;

O brother kind, quoth the, In a nunnery I will thioud me,

You are the man must bring our babes Far from any company:

To wealth or misery. But, ere my prayers have an end, be sure of this, And if you keep them carefully, 1o pray for thue and for thy love I will not miss.

Then God will you reward; Thus farewel, most gallant captain !

If otherwise you seem to deal, Farewel to my heart's content !

God will your deeds regard. Count not Spanish ladies wanton,

With lips as cold as any stone Though to thee my mind was bent:

She kiss'd her children (mall : Joy and true prosperity go ftill with thee ! God bless you both, my children deas! $ The like fall unto thy share, most fair lady."

With that the tears did fall.

These speeches then their brother spoke $ 101.

Ballad. The Children in the Wood; or, To this Gck couple there :
The Norfolk Gentleman's laft 1Vill and Teftament. The keeping of your children dear,

Sweet fitter, do not fear;
Now ponder well, you parents dear, God never profper me nor mine,
The words intich I thall write;

Nor aught eite that I have, A doleful story you shall hear,

If I do wrong your children dear,
In time brought forth to light:

When you are laid in grave !
A gentleman of good account
In Norfolk liv'd of late,

Their parents being dead and gone,
Whose wealth and riches did surmount

The children home he takes, Most men of his estate.

And brings them home unto his house,

And much of them he makes. Sore fick he was, and like to die,

He had not kept these pretty babes No help that he could have;

A twelvemonth and a day, His wife by him as fick did lie,

When for their wealth he did devise
And both possess’d one grave.,

To make thein both away.
No love between these two was lost,
Each was to other kind:

ile bargain'd with two ruffians rude, In love they liv’d, in love they died,

Which were of furious mood, And left two babes behind ;

That they should take the children young,

And nay them in a wood. The one a fine and pretty boy,

He told his wife, and all he had,
Not palling three years

He did the children send
Th' other a girl, more young than hc, To be brought up in fair London,
And made in beauty's mould.

With one that was his friend.
The father left his little fun,
As plainly doth appear,

Away then went these pretty babes,
When he to perfect age thould come,

Rejoicing at that tide, Three hundred pounds a year ;

Rejoicing with a merry mind,

They thould on cock-horse ride. And to his litele daughter Jane

They prate and prattle pleasantly, Five hundred pounds in gold,

As they rode on the way, To be paid down on marriage day,

To those that should their butchers be, Which might not be contrould :

And work their lives' decay.
But if the children chanc'd to die
Ere they to age thould come,

So that the pretty speech they had
Their uncle should pofiess their wealth,

Made murd'rers' hearts relent ; For fo the will did run.

And they that undertook the deed

Full fore shey did repent. Now, brother, said the dying man,

Yet one of them, more hard of heart, Look to my children dear;

Did vow to do his charge, Be good unto my boy and girl,

Because the wretch that hired him, No friends elle I have here:

Had paid hin very large. To God and you I do commend

The other would not agree thereto,
My children night and day;

So here they fell at strife;
But little while, be sure, we have
Within this world to stay.

With one another they did fight

About the children's life : You must be father and mother boch,

And he that was of mildeft mood And uncle, all in one;

Did say the other there, God knows what will become of them

Within an unfrequented wood;
When I am dead and gone,

While babes did quake for fear.
3
M

4

old: