Jenny next a tyrant fhe;
But Rebecca fet me free;

With my row, dow, &c.
In a week from her I fled,
And took Judith in her ftead,
With her tan, &c.

She poffefs'd a wond'rous grace,
But the wanted Sufan's face,
With my row, dow, &c.
Ifabella's rolling eye
Eclips'd Sufan's presently,
With her tan, &c.

Brown-fkinn'd Befs I next obey'd,
Then lov'd Nanny, red-hair'd maid,
With my row, dow, &c.
None could bind me, I am free,
Yet love all the fair I fee,
With my tan, &c.

SONG.

The Silver-ton'd Trumpet.

-Sung by Mr. Arrowfmith, at Vauxhall.

THEN rous'd by the trumpet's loud clangor to

WH

arms,

Reluctant I quitted Eliza's bright charms;

Tho' honour commanded, yet love fill'd my mind;
For how could I leave the dear charmer behind!
Yet the rage of the battle with courage I try'd,
Surviv'd, while the heroes fell faft by my fide;
Love flood my protector in all the alarms,
While the filver-ton'd trumpet ftill founded to arms.

Now

Now olive-rob'd peace kind advances again,
And her bleffings difpenfes wide over the plain;
Return'd to Eliza, we join'd in the throng,
Where is heard the foft pipe, or the heart-lifting fong;
Each rural amufement with rapture we try,

While the beams of contentment are form'd in each eye:

Love ftood my protector in all the alarms,

While the filver-ton'd trumpet ftill founded to arms.
What mortal like me fo tranfcendent'y bleft,
When clafp'd by the charmer with joy to her breast!
The laurel of conqueft I give to the wind-
'Tis nought without love and honour combin'd;
But when thus united, how noble the name!
That envy muft wait on fo happy a fame:
Love ftood my protector in all the alarms,
While the filver-ton'd trumpet ftill founded to arms.

SONG.

Sung by Mr. Edwin, in Love in a Camp.

"LL fing you a fong; faith, I'm finging it here now,

I'

I don't mean t'affront either small or big, bow, wow, The fubject I've chofen, it is the canine race,

To prove, like us two-legg'd dogs, they're a very fine race.

Bow, wow, wow,
Fal, lal, la.

Like you and I, other dogs may be counted fad dogs; As we won't drink water, fome might think us mad dogs:

A courtier's a fpaniel, a citizen a dull dog,
A foldier is a maftiff, a failor a bull-dog.

Bow, wow, wow,

Fal, lal, la.

An

An old maid comes from church, to the poor no lady. kinder;

A lufty dog her footman, with prayer-book behind

her:

A poor boy afks a farthing, and gets plenty of good kicking,

But little Shock, her lap dog, must have a roafled

chicken.

Bow, avow, wow,
Fal, lal, la.

When filly dogs for property, uncle, fon, and brother, Grin and fort mighty gruff, and worry one another: Shou'd they a bit of equity from juftice beg the loan of, That cunning dog the lawyer, Snap, cairies quick

the bone off.

Bow, wow, wow,
Fal, lal, la.

A poet's a lank greyhound, for the public he runs game down,

A critic is a cur that ftrives to run his fame down ; And though he cannot follow where the noble sport invites him,

He flyly fteals behind, and by the heel he bites him.

Bow, wow, wo,
Fal, lal, la.

You've a pack of friends, while to feed 'em you are

able,

Your dog for his morfel crouches under your table,
Your friends turn tail in misfortune or difafter,

But your poor faithful dog will ne'er forfake his

mafter.

Bow, wow, wow,
Fal, lal, la.

As your friends turn tail the moment that you need

'em,

My dog ran away when no longer I cou'd feed him,

This

This cur, fo ungrateful, forfook me on my journey,
And for a mouldy cruit went back to the attorney.

Bow, wow, wow,

Fal, lal, la.

SONG.

The Friend and Lover.

Sung by Mifs Newman, at Vauxhall.

"'M told by the wife ones a maid I fhall die; They fay I'm too nice, but the charge I deny;

I know but too well how time flies along,

That we live but few years, and yet fewer are young.
But I hate to be cheated, and never will buy
Whole ages of forrow for moments of joy.

I never will wed till a youth I can find,.
Where the friend and the lover are equally join'd.

No pedant, tho' learn'd, or foolishly gay,
Or laughing because he has nothing to fay,
To every fair one obliging and free,
But never be fond of any but me;

In whofe tender bofom my foul may confide,
Whofe kindness may foothe me, whofe counfels can
guide:

Such a youth I would marry, if such I cou'd find,
Where the friend and the lover are equally join'd.

From fuch a dear lover as here I describe,

No danger fhould fright me, nor millions should bribe;.
But 'till this aftonishing creature I know,

I am fingle and happy, and ftill will be fo.
You may laugh, and fuppofe I am nicer than wife,
But I'll hun the vain fop, the dull coxcomb defpife,
Nor e'er will I wed 'till a youth I can find,
Where the friend and the lover are equally join'd..

SONG.、

SONG.

Sung by Mr. Edwin, in the Choleric Fathers.

Fups and downs we daily fee
Examples, moft furprising;

The high and low, of each degree,
Now falling and now rifing:
Some up, fome down; fome in, fome out;
Some neither one nor t'other:

Knaves, Fools, Jews, Gentiles, join the rout
And joftle one another;

With my heigho!
Gee up! gee ho!
Higgledy, piggledy!
Truth, honour, honesty!
Trim tram!

Your honefty's fcarce,
Honour's grown a mere farce,

And poor truth! baw; an obfolete whim-whem?

By ups and downs, fome folks, they fay,
Among grandees have got, fir;
Who were themfelves, but yesterday,
The Lord knows who, or what, fir!
Sans fenfe, or pence, in merit's chair
They dofe and dream fupine-o!
But how the Devil they came there-
Neither you nor I know.

With my heigho! &c.

Your country maid comes up to town,

A fimple, aukward body;

In half a year again goes down,

No peacock half fo gaudy!

Lord