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Then here's to smiling black ey'd Sue,
The girl that's made for me and you;
The paragon of beauty;

In her the graces all combine,
A sparkling eye, a form divine,
The gods have done their duty.

Next then a glass to bonny Bess,
A girl of spunk, we can't do less
Than prize her as a treasure;

So here's the wench with three times three,
The lass well form'd for love and me,
Ye Bipeds, what a treasure.

Choice spirits own that this is life,
Yet bless the sacred name of wife,
If Joan, Kate, Nance, or Molly:
Good wine inspires, do what ye can,
And teaches us to play the man,
So drink, and let's be jolly.

"T was far retir'd from noise and smoke,

IT

O hark! I hear the woodman's stroke, Who dreams not as he fells the oak,

What mischief dire he brews;
What art may shape the falling trees,
In aid of luxury or ease,

He weighs not matters such as these,
But sings, and hacks, and hews.

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The tree now fell'd by this good man, `
Perhaps may form the spruce sedan,
Or wheelbarrow, where Oyster Nan
So vulgar runs her rig;

The stage, where boxers croud in flocks,
Or else the quacks, perhaps the stocks,
Or poles for signs or barber's blocks,
Where shines the parson's wig.

He makes, bold peasant! O what grief!
The gibbet, whereon hangs the thief,
The seat where sits the great Lord Chief,
The throne, the cobler's stall:

'Tis pompous life in every stage,
Makes folly's whim prize equipage,
And children's toys, crutches for age,
And coffins for us all.

Yet justice let us still afford,

The binns that hold gay Bacchus' hoard,
Those chairs and this convivial board,
Confess the woodman's stroke;
He made the press that bled the vine,
The butt that holds the generous wine,
The hall itself where tipplers join,

To crack their mirthful joke.

THE breeze was fresh, the ship in stays,
Each breaker hush'd, the shore a haze

When Jack no more on duty call'd,
His true love's tokens overhaul'd;

The

The broken gold, the braided hair,
The tender motto writ so fair,
Upon his 'bacco box he views,
Nancy the poet, love the muse,
If you loves I as I loves you,
No pair so happy as we two,

The storm, that like a shapeless wreck,
Had strew'd with rigging all the deck,
That tars for sharks had given a feast,
And left the ship a hulk, had ceas'd;'
When Jack, as with his messmates dear,
He shar'd the grog, their hearts to chcer,
Took from his 'bacco box a quid→
And spelt for comfort on the lid—
If you loves I as I loves you,
No pair so happy as we two.

The battle that with horror grim,
Had madly ravag'd life and limb,
Had scuppers drench'd with human gore,
And widow'd many a wife, was o'cr;
When Jack to his companion dear,

First paid the tribute of a tear,
Then as his 'bacco box he held,
Restor❜d his comfort as he spell'd-

If you loves I as I loves you,

No pair so happy as we two.

The voyage that had been long and hard,
But that had yielded full reward,
That brought each sailor to his friend,
Happy and rich, was at an end;
Where Jack, his toils and perils o'er,
Beheld his Nancy on the shore,

He

He then the 'bacco box display'd,
And cry'd, and seiz'd the charming maid-
If you loves I as I loves you,

No pair so happy as we two.

WITH

ITH horns and with hounds I waken the
day,

And hie to my woodland walks away;
I tuck up my robe, and am buskin'd soon,
And tie to my forehead a waxing moon:
With shouting and hooting we pierce thro' the
sky,

While Echo turns huntress, and doubles the cry.

To

ease his heart, and own his flame,
Young Jockey to my cottage came;
But tho' I lik'd him passing well
I careless turn'd my spinning wheel.

My milk-white hand he did extol,
And prais'd my fingers long and small,
Unusual joy my heart did feel,
But still I turn'd my spinning wheel.

Then round about my slender waist
He clasp'd his arms, and me embrac'd;
To kiss my hand he down did kneel,
But yet I turn'd my spinning wheel.

With gentle voice I bid him rise;
He bless'd my neck, my lips and eyes:
My fondness I could scarce conceal,
Yet still I turn'd my spinning wheel,

Till bolder grown, so close he press'd,
His wanton thoughts I quickly guess'd,
Then push'd him from my rock and reel,
And angry turn'd my spinning wheel.

At last when I began to chide,
He swore he meant me for his bride:
'Twas then my love I did reveal,
And flung away my spinning wheel.

WOULD you know, pretty Nan, how we

pass our time,

While we sailors are toss'd on the sea, Why, believe me, dear girl, in each season and clime,

True hearted and merry we be.

Tho' tempests may blow, still unmindful of care, So the fiddles but strike up a bar,

Why, we sing, and we dance, toast our sweethearts, and swear,

All on board of a man of war.

Should the foe bear in sight, and all hands call'd on deck,

Don't think jolly sailors are cow'd,

No-we'll teach 'ein the old British flag to respect, And bid them defiance aloud;

Then

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