W

SONG.

The Union of Love and Wine.

WITH women and wine I defy ev'ry care,
For life without these is a bubble of air;
For life without thefe, &c.

Each helping the other, in pleasure I roll,
And a new flow of fpirits enliven my foul;
Each helping the other, &c.

Let grave fober mortals my maxims condemn,
I never fhall alter my conduct for them;

I care not how much they my measures decline,
Let 'em have their own humour, and I will have mine.

Wine prudently us'd will our fenfes improve,
'Tis the fpring tide of life, and the fuel of love;
And Venus ne'er look'd with a smile so divine,

As when Mars bound his head with a branch from the

vinc.

Then come, my dear charmer, thou nymph half divine,
Firft pledge me with kiffes, next pledge me with wine;
Then giving and taking, in mutual return,
The torch of our loves fhall eternally burn.

But fhould't thou my paffion for wine difapprove,
My bumper I'll quit to be bleft with my love;
For rather than forfeit the joys of my lafs,
My bottle I'll break, and demolish my glass.

SONG.

BL

LOW high, blow low, let tempeft tear
The mainmaft by the board,

My heart with thoughts of thee my dear,
And love well flor'd,

Shall

Shall brave all danger, fcorn all fear,
The roaring waves, the raging fea,
In hopes on fhore to be once more,
Safe moor'd with thee.

Aloft, while mountains high we go,

The whiftling winds that foud along,
And the furge roaring from below,
Shall my fignal be to think on thee,
And this fhall be my fong:

Blow high, blow low, &c.

And on that night when all the crew,
In memory of their former lives,

O'er flowing canns of flip renew,

And drink t' their fweethearts and their wives,

I'll heave a figh, and think on thee,

And as the the fhip rolls on the fea,

The burden of my fong shall be,

Blow high, blow low, let tempeft tear The mainmait by the board,

My heart with thoughts of thee my dear, And love well flor'd,

Shall brave all danger, fcorn all fear, The roaring winds, the raging fea,

In hopes on shore, to be once more, Safe moor'd with thee.

WH

SON G.

Sung in the Choleric Fathers.

HEN o'er the world the headless lamb,
Hath 'till the dufky twilight ftray'd,
here I am,

His fimple plaints cry'd

"Of night and folitude afraid.”

But if far off his dam he hears,
Echoing oft the mournful bleat,

He runs and flops, and hopes and fears,
And bounds with pleasure when they meet.

SONG.

L

SONG.

Sung in Fontainbleau.

ET fame found the trumpet and cry to the

Let glory re-echo the ftrain;

The full tide of honour may flow from the fear,
And heroes may smile on their pain.

The treafures of Autumn let Bacchus difplay,
And ftagger about with his bowls

On fcience, let Sol beam the luftre of day,
And witdom give light to the foul,

Let India unfold her rich gems to the view,
Each virtues each joy to improve; d
Oh, give me the friend that I know to be true,
And the feit that tenderly love!

What's glory but pride a vain bubble is fame,
And riot the pleasure of wine a
What riches but trouble? and title's a name,
But friendship and love are divine!}

S O NG.

Sung in Rofina.

Arife to pana, fo kind to my boon,

of the chace;

And Sol lends a ray to chafte Dian's fair moon,
And fmiles to the fmile of her face.

For the fport I delight in, the bright Queen of Love
With myrtles my brows hall adorn,

While Pan breaks his chaunter, and fkulks in the grive,

Excell'd by the found of the horn.

The

The dogs, are uncoupled, and sweet is their cry, > >>>
Yet fweeter the notes of fweet Echo's reply:
Haik forward, my honies, the game is in view,
But love is the game that I wish to pursue.

The ftag from the chamber of woodbine peeps out,
His fentence he hears in the gale,

Yet flies, till entangled in fear and in doubt,
His courage and conftancy fail

Surrounded by foes he prepares for the fray,

With antlers erected, his

Defpair taking place of his fear bay,

Then furrenders his life with a tear.

W

dogs are, &c.

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Sung in Too Civil by Half.

HEN order firft from Chaos fprung,
Fair England blooming came,

And ancient bards their lyres ftrung,
To found its rifing fame.

Chorus.

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When British cannons roar,
Against proud France and Spain,
From diftant fhore to fhole,

Great

rules the main.

The ocean made its subjects smile,

Health led her fons throughout the isle,

And round its fertile land,

Her Commerce to command.

Aa Ga

SONG.

Homeward-Bound.

OOSE ev'ry fail to the breeze,
The courfe of my veffel improve ;
I've done with the toils of the feas,
Ye failors! I'm bound to my love.

Since Emma is true as she's fair,

My griefs I fling all to the wind; "Tis a pleafing return for my care, My mistress is constant and kind.

My fails are all fill'd to my dear,
What tropic-bird swifter can move?
Who, cruel, fhall hold his career,
That returns to the neft of his love?

Hoist ev'ry fail to the breeze,

Come fhipmates, and join in the fong; Let's drink, while our fhip cuts the feas, To the gale that may drive her along.

H

SONG.

Sung in Rofine.

OW bleft, my fair, who on thy face,
Uncheck'd by fear may fondly gaze;
Who, when he breathes the tender figh,
Beholds no anger in thine eye.

Ah, then, what joy awaits the swain,
Who ardent pleads, nor pleads in vain ;
Whofe voice, with rapture all divine,
Secure may fay, "This heart is mine."

SONG.