Another kind mate
Should give me what fate
Would not from the former allow i
With him I'd amufe
The hours you abuse,
And I think I know very well how, ›
'Tis true, I'm a maid,
And fo't may be faid,
No judge of the conjugal lot;
Yet marriage, I ween,
Has a cure for the spleen,
And I think I know very well what,
My laddie is gang'd far away o'er the plain,
While in forrow behind I am forc'd to remain;
Tho' blue-bells and vi'lets the hedges adorn, [thorn
Tho' the trees are in bloffom, and fweet blows the
No pleasure they give me ; in vain they look gay,
There's nothing can please me now Jockey's away
Forlorn I fit finging, and this is my ftrain,
Hafte, hafte, my dear Jockey, to me back again.
When lads and their laffes are on the green met,
They dance and they fing, they laugh and they chat;
Contented and happy, with hearts full of glee,
I can't without envy their merriment fee:
Their paftimes offend me, my laddie's not there,
No pleasure I relish that Jockey don't share,
It makes me to figh, I can fcarce tears refrain,
I with my dear Fockey return'd back again.
But hope fhall fuftain me, nor will I defpair:
He promis'd he would in a fortnight be here;
On fond expectation my wifhes I'd feaft,
For love my dear Jockey to Jenay will hafte:
Then farewell each care, adieu each vain figh,
Who'll then be fo blefs'd, or fo happy as I ?
I'll fing thro' the meadows, and alter my ftrain,
When Jockey returns to these arms back again.
My bonny failor's won my mind,
My heart is now with him at fea;
hope the fummer's western breeze
Will bring him fafely back to me:
I wish to hear what glorious toils,
What dangers he has undergone;
What forts he's ftorm'd, how great the fpoile
From France and Spain my failor's won.
A thousand terrors chill'd my breast,
When fancy brought the foe to view;
And day and night I've had no rest,
Left ev'ry gale a tempeft blew :
Bring, gentle gales, my failor home,
His fhip at anchor may I fee;
Three years are fure enough to roam,
Too long for one who loves like me.
His face by fultry climes is wan,
His eyes by watching, fhine lefs bright;
But ftill I'll own my charming man,
And run to meet him when in fight:
His honest heart is what I prize,
No weather can make that look old;
The' alter'd were his face and eyes,
I'll love my jolly failor bold,
They practife, and they must approve
An innocent deceit ;
Affe&t indiff'rence where you love,
Or you'll indiff'rence meet.
OH! where will you hurry my dearest?
Say, fay to what clime or what shore,
You tear him from me the fincereft,
That ever lov'd mortal before.
Ah! cruel, hard hearted to prefs him,
And force the dear youth from my arms,
Reftore him that I may carefs him,
And fhield him from future alarms.
In vain you infult and deride me,
And make but a fcoff at my woes';
You ne'er from my dear fhall divide me,
I'll follow wherever he goes.
Think not of the merciless ocean,
My foul any terror can have,
For foon as the fhip makes its motion,
So foon fhall the fea be my grave.
Welcome, my shepherd, how welcome to me
Is ev'ry occafion of meeting with thee!
But when thou art abfent, fo joyless am I,
Methinks I contented could fit down and die.
The oft'ner I view thee, the more I approve
The choice I have made and am fix'd in my love;
For merit like your's more brighter is shown,
And more must be valu'd the more it is known.
To live in a cottage with thee could I choose,
And crowns for thy fake I would gladly refuse:
Not all the vaft treasure of wealthy Peru,
To me would feem precious, if banish'd from
For all my ambition in thee is confin'd,
And nothing could please me should you prove un-
Then faithfully love me, and happier I'll be, [kind :
Than if plac'd on a throne for to reign without thee,
OH! let me unreferv'd declare
The feelings of my heart,
My Strepbon reigns unrivall'd there,
No other fwain has part;
Such worth and truth my heart does move,
To give my fhepherd love for love.
When abfent from my longing fight,
He is my conftant theme;
His fhadow form appears by night,
And shapes the morning dream;
For ah! his worth my heart does moye
To give the fhepherd love for love.
Ye fpotlefs virgins of the plain,
Deem not my words too free;
For e'er my paffion you arraign,
You must have lov'd like me;
And to his worth my heart does move
To give the shepherd love for love.
A little love but urg'd with care,
Oft leads a heart and leads it far,
A little love, &c.
'Twas paffing by yon spreading oak
That I my fpindle loft just now;
His knife then Damon kindly took,
And from the tree he cut a bough,
His knife, &c.
A little love, &c; Thus did the youth his time employ, Whilft me he tenderly beheld, He talk'd of love, I leap'd for joy, For ah! my heart did fondly yield; He talk'd of love, &c. A little love, &c.
THO' by Calin I now am forfaken,
No willow my temples fhall bind;
Tho' in one I by chance am mistaken,
Another, I hope, will prove kind.
Young Colin would leave me in forrow,
But this I would have him to know,
From him this good maxim I borrow,
'Tis beft t'have two ftrings to one's bow. I own his bright eyes were my pleasure, When love from their beams fmil'd on mei I own he was once all my treasure, But I'll be as fickle as he : Young Damon can cure all my forrow,
And this I wou'd have you to know, From the men this good maxim I borrow, They've always two ftrings to their bow. Learn, ladies, to fcorn the falfe rovers, Who fhun you because you are true; Prove conftant and kind to your lovers, Only while they prove conftant to you: For a falfe one 'tis folly to languish,
Then attend to my counfel, and know, To avoid all fuch pining and anguish
Į make fure of two firings to my bowa
To hear the jar of noisy war,
To me is pleafing matter;
Give me, ye pow'rs. in dang'rous hours,
A fpear and shield to clatter;
If this fupply ye shall deny,
Yet grant me hat and feather,
A smart cockade, and polish'd blade...«
But keep them from the weather.
I'll then proceed, for fure there's need,
To get my carps together;
Who feel no dread, but for their head,
Their hat, cockade, and feather.
Let now each maid, in taste array'd,
Advance, in fairest weather-
But halt! I fear the French are near-
Alas! my hat and feather.
If thefe I lofe, I'll not refufe
To leave the ftrife to others:
To those who dread no lofs of head,
Britannia's fons and brothers;
For they'll advance 'against Spain and France,
And knock them down together;-
Then where they lie,there let them die
Defpoil'd of hat and feather.
WHEN the hated morning's light,
Peeping in, offends my fight,
Toffing to and fro in bed,
Aching heart, and aching head;
Counting o'er my various ills,
Fickle lovers, mercers bills;
All the fums I've loft at dice,
When thefe in my mind arife,
I cry
But if is Pantheon night,
Or that Ranelagh invite,
Chicheratas here, macheratas there,
Or to Vauxhall I repair;
If I meet my Lord Perfume,
(Or dear Col'nel Thunder-Bomb;
(I'll fing and play wi' Willy gay,
For we twa ne'er fhall finder.
WOULD'ST thou all the joy receive,
That enraptur'd lovers give,
Take a heart from falfehood free,
Take a heart that doats on thee:
Nice fufpicion's jealous train,
Still creates a virgin pain;
Then each timid care remove,
You can (mile, and I can love.
Blefs'd with thee, profufely gay,
Time fhall wing his fmiling way;
Ever blooming joys increase,
Tranquil liberty and peace.
Oh! let kindness rule thy breaft,
Smile my panting heart to reft;
Sweetly fmile, and thou shalt know,
We can make a heav'n below.
And finding fweets in ev'ry fmart, I could not fay him nay; And ever when he talk'd of love, He would his eyes decline, And every figh a heart would move, Geud faith, and why not mine? He'd prefs my hand, and kiss it off, In filence fpoke his flame; And while he treated me thus foft, I thought him not to blame. ometimes to feed my flocks with him, My Jemmy would invite me, Where he the fofteft fongs would fing, On purpose to delight me: nd Jemmy ev'ry grace difplay'd, Which were enough, I trow, conquer any princely maid, So he did me, I vow.
at now for Jemmy I must mourn, Who to the wars must go;
is fheep-hook to a sword must turn,
Alack! what fhall I do?
s bagpipe into warlike founds
Muft now exchanged be,
ftead of bracelets, fearful founds,
Thea what becomes of me?
VHEN I was young, tho' now am old,
The men were kind and true;
t now they're grown fo falfe and bold, What can a woman do?
Say what can a woman do?
For men are truly,
So unruly,
I tremble at feventy-two!
Then I was fair-tho' now fo fo,
No hearts were giv'n to rove,
r pulfes beat not faft, nor flow,
But all was faith and love;
Now what can a woman do?
For men are truly,
I tremble at feventy-two!
WHEN ev'ning gales cheer rural groves,
And village laffes gay,
Are roving with the lads they love,
Along the banks of Tay,
I'll chufe young Colin for my guide,
From harms he'll fure defend;
For Colin is my joy and pride,
My lover, and my friend.
Young Colin's now in beauty's bloom.
His looks are fair and gay;
He pipes along the yellow broom,
Or flow'ry banks of Tay:
When harvest fmiles. the thepherd's pain,
And all his doubts shall end;
For then I'll wed the gentle fwain,
My lover, and my friend.
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