S SONG. Sweet Robinette. Sung by Mr. Incledon. WEET, fweet Robinette, all fhepherds declare, Her eyes they would melt you, her cheeks they disclose All nature feems pleas'd, as the trips it along, So gentle her manners, they foften the fage, SONG. Sung by Mr. Bannister, at the Royalty Theatre. F life is a bubble, and breaks with a blast, IF You must tofs off your wine, if you'd with it to last; For this bubble may well be destroy'd with a puff, If it is not kept floating in liquor enough. If life is a flower, as philofophers fay, M For For if life is a flower, any blockhead can tell, This life is no more than a journey, 'tis faid, This world to a theatre liken'd has been, Where each man around has a part in the scene: 'Tis our part to get drunk, and 'tis matter of fact, That the more you all drink, boys, the better you'll act. This life is a dream, in which many will weep, Who have frange filly fancies, and cry in their fleep: But for us, when we wake from our dream, 'twill be faid, That the tears of the tankard were all that we fhed. 'T SONG. Maria. Compofed by Mr. Moulds. WAS near a thicket's calm retreat, Maria chofe her wretched feat, To mourn her forrows free; Her lovely form was fweet to view, As dawn at opening day, But ah, the mourn'd, her love not true, And wept her cares away. The brook flow'd gently at her feet, Her pipe, which once the tun'd most sweet, No No more to charm the vale fhe tries; Poor hapless maid! who can behold And hear thy love-lorn story told, SONG. To Banish Life's Troubles. Sung by Mr. Sedgwick, at the Anacreontic Society. T O banish life's troubles, the Grecian old fage Preft the fruit of the vintage oft into the bowl, Which made him forget all the cares of old age; It bloom'd in his face, and made happy his foul. While here we are found, Put the bumper around, 'Tis the liquor of life, that each care can controul. This jovial philofopher taught that the fun Was thirty, and often drank deep of the main; That the planets would tipple away as they run, The earth wanted moisture, and foak'd up the rain. While here we are found, Put the bumper around, 'Tis the liquor of life, and why should we refrain. Its virtues are known both in war and in love, While While here we are found, S O N G. The Wolf. Sung by Mr. Bannister, at the Royalty Theatre. T the peaceful midnight hour, A Every fenfe and every power Fetter'd lie in downy fleep; SONG. Sung by Mr. Chapman, at the Royalty Theatre. OOK out, brother fportfmen, the morning is Lo clear, An Phoebus o'er Hambledon hills does appear: For we fhrink from no danger before us : Tally-ho! Tally-ho! my brave boys; fee he flackens his fpeed; Strength failing him, he to his cunning takes heed: His art now forfakes him, fee Dancer o'ertakes him; The hounds now feize on him-poor Reynard is dead. Tho' Reynard, &c. Now home, my brave boys, and to Bacchus repair, And each take a glafs to his favourite fair: Day and night is thus fpent, in mirth, joy, and And content; may huntsmen for ever be ftrangers to care. SON G. Sung at the Royalty Theatre. HE British failor ploughs the feas, Tho' ftorms arife in dreadful ire, When foes invade, with eager heart and hand, The fhip now rifes to the skies, And while the cruel fight prevails, With death and courage he affails; Nor heeds their fire! but at his chief's command, The chain-fhots whistle to and fro, A broadfide feals their fate; M 3 Then |