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Let us drink and sport to-day,

Ours is not to-morrow;
Love with youth flies swift away,
Age is nought but sorrow,
Dance and sing,

Time's on the wing,

Life never knows the return of spring.

[From the "Beggar's Opera."]

GO, ROSE.

JOHN GAY.

Go, rose, my Chloe's bosom grace;
How happy should I prove,
Might I supply that envied place
With never fading love;

There, Phoenix-like, beneath her eye

Involv'd in fragrance, burn and die!

Know hapless flower, that thou shalt find

More fragrant roses there;

I see thy withering head reclin'd

With envy and despair.

One common fate we both must prove,

You die with envy, I with love.

[From the fable of "The Poet and the Rose," thus introduced :—

As in the cool of early day

A poet sought the sweets of May,
The garden's fragrant breath ascends,
And every stalk with odour bends:

A rose, he plucked, he gaz'd, admir'd
Thus singing as the muse inspir'd:-
"Go rose, &c.

The poet complained with truth, that:

In every love song roses bloom.]

SWEET WILLIAM'S FAREWELL TO

BLACK-EYED SUSAN.

JOHN GAY.

All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,
The streamers waving in the wind,
When black-ey'd Susan came on board,

'Oh! where shall I my true love find?
'Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
'If my sweet William sail among the crew.’

William, then high upon the yard,

Rock'd with the billows to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard, He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below;

The cord slides quickly through his glowing hands, And (quick as lightning) on the deck he stands.

So the sweet lark high pois'd in air,

Shuts close his pinions to his breast,
(If chance his mate's shrill call he hear,)
And drops at once into her nest.

The noblest captain in the British fleet
Might envy William's lips those kisses sweet.

O Susan! Susan! lovely dear!

My vows shall ever true remain!
Let me kiss off that falling tear-
We only part to meet again.

Change as ye list, ye winds, my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.

Believe not what the landmen say,

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind;
They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,
In every port a mistress find-

Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,
For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.

If to far India's coast we sail,

Thine eyes are seen in diamonds bright; Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,

Thy skin is ivory so white;

Thus ev'ry beauteous object that I view,
Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.

Tho' battle call me from thy arms,

Let not my pretty Susan mourn :
Tho' cannons roar, yet, safe from harms,

William shall to his dear return:

Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.

The boatswain gave the dreadful word,

The sails their swelling bosom spread;

No longer must she stay aboard;

They kiss'd-she sigh'd-he hung his head: The lessening boat unwilling rows to landAdieu! she cries, and waved her lily hand.

THE COMPLAINT.

The sun was sunk beneath the hill,
The western clouds were lin'd with gold.
The sky was clear, the winds were still,
The flocks were pent within the fold;
When from the silence of the
grove,
Poor Damon thus despair'd of love!

Who seeks to pluck the fragrant rose

From the bare rock, or oozy beach;
Who from each barren weed that grows
Expects the grape, or blushing peach;
With equal faith may hope to find
The truth of love in womankind.

I have no herds, no fleecy care,

No fields that wave with golden grain.
No pastures green, or gardens fair,
A woman's venal heart to gain :
Then all in vain my sighs must prove,
For I, alas! have nought but love.

How wretched is the faithful youth,

Since womens hearts are bought and sold? They ask no vows of sacred truth,

Whene'er they sigh, they sigh for gold. Gold can the frowns of scorn remove,

But I, alas! have nought but love.

To buy the gems of India's coast,

What wealth, what treasure can suffice?
Yet India's shore shall never boast
The living lustre in thine eyes:

For these the world too cheap would prove;
But I, alas! have nought but love.

Then Mary! since nor gems, nor ore,
Can with thy brighter self compare,
Consider that I offer more,

Than glittering gems, a soul sincere :
Let riches meaner beauties move,

Who pays thy worth, must pay in love.

[This very beautiful Song is printed with many variations. I have selected the most poetical for the text, instead of "then Mary" some read "O Silvia?" It has been imputed to Gay ?]

[blocks in formation]

Of all the girls that are so smart,
There's none like pretty Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
There is no lady in the land
Is half so sweet as Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Her father he makes cabbage nets,

And through the streets does cry 'em ;

Her mother she sells laces long,

To such as please to buy 'em :

But sure such folks cou'd ne'er beget

So sweet a girl as Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

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