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And the artful coquette, tho' fhe feems to refuse,
Yet in fpite of her airs, fhe her lover pursues.
With the sports of the field, &c.

Let the bold and the bufy hunt glory and wealth, All the bleffings we afk is the bleffing of health; With hounds and with horns thro' the woodlands to

roam,

And when tir'd abroad find contentment at home.
With the sports of the field, &c.

M

SONG

my

XLIX.

Y dog and
mistress are both of a kind,
As fickle as fancy, inconftant as wind;
My dog follows ev'ry ftrange heel in the streets,
And my miftrefs is fond of each fellow fhe meets,
Yet in fpite of her arts I'll not make the least strife,
But be cheary, and merry, and happy through life.

Go Mifs where fhe will, and whenever fhe pleafe,
Her conduct shall ne'er my philofophy teafe;
Her freedom fhall never embitter my glee,

One woman's the fame as another to me;

So, in fpite of her airs, I'll not make the least ftrife,
But be cheary, and merry, and happy thro' life.

I laugh at the wretches who ftupidly pine,
For falfe-hearted gipfies, they title divine;
At worst of my love fits no phyfic I ask,

But that which is found in the bowl or the flask;
For go things how they will, I'll not make the least strife,
But be cheary, and merry, and happy thro' life.

The girl that behaves with good humour and fenfe, Shall still to my heart have the warmest pretence; And for thofe that would jilt me, deceive, and betray, In honefter bumpers I'll wash them away. 'Tis my final resolve, not to make the leaft ftrife, But be cheary, and merry, and happy thro' life,

SONG

L.

THE WISH. By a Lady.

Fever, O Hymen, I add to thy tribe,

defcribe,
Not in party, or ftature, too high nor too low,
Not the leaft of a clown, nor too much of the beau ;
No fribble, who's tafte in my drefs must be fhewn,
Nor coxcomb, too flavishly fond of his own;
No pedant in fenfe, nor conceited young smart,
For wisdom and conduct must conquer my heart.

Be manly his prefence, engaging his air,
His temper ftill yielding, and mind as fincere ;
No dupe to his paffions, 'gainft reafon to move,
But kind to the fweeteft, the paffion of love.
Let honour, commendable pride of the fex,
His actions direct, and his principles fix;
Then groundless fufpicions he'll never furmife,
Nor with jealoufy read ev'ry glance of my eyes.

When fuch a bleft youth fhall approve my small charms, And no thoughts of intereft his bofom alarms, In wedlock I'll join with a mutual defire, And prudence fhall cherish the wavering fire. Thus life will glide on unperceiv'd in decay, Each night fhall be blifsful, and happy each day.

Such

a partner, grant heaven! with my prayers comply; Or a maid let me live, and a maid let me die.

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SK you who is finging here,

Who fo blithe can thus appear?

I'm the child of joy and glee,

And my name's Variety.

Ne'er have I a clouded face,
Swift I change from place to place,
Ever wand'ring, ever free,
Such am I, Variety.

Like a bird that skims the air,

Here and there and ev'ry where,
Sip my pleasures like a bee,
Nothing's like Variety.

Love's fweet paffion warms my breast,
Roving love but breaks my reft;
One good heart's enough for me,
Tho' my name's Variety.

Crouded fcenes and lonely grove,
All by turns I can improve ;
Follow, follow, follow me,
Friend of life, Variety.

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ALL hail to the day that merits more praise

Than all other days in the year;

And bless'd be the night that giveth delight
To the poor man as well as the peer.

May good fortune attend every honeft man's friend,
That does the best that he may;
Forgetting all wrong in a cup and a fong,
We'll drive the cold winter away.

Let mifery pack, and a whip at her back,
Down down the Tartarian flood;

And let envy be drown'd in a river profound,
He that envies another man's good.

May forrow's expence come a thousand years hence,
In payments of a long delay,

For we'll spend the whole night in an honeft delight,
Juft to drive the cold winter away.

The courtiers of ftate fet open their gate,
And bid a free welcome to moft,
The city likewife, tho' fomething precife,
Does not fail for to bring forth a roaft.

But by all report, both of city and court,
In the country we bear the fway,
Our money is spent with a better intent
When to drive the cold winter away.

Now let each individual shake hands with a grace ;
May friendship's firm ties ever bind

The honeft man's hand, and the honest man's heart ;
May his temples with olives be twin'd.
From henceforth let knaves be chain'd to deep graves,
For an honeft man will bear the fway,
His money is spent with a noble intent
When to drown the fatigues of the day,
And to drive the cold winter away.

SONG LIV.

TULLOCHGORUM.

Written by a Clergyman at Aberdeen.

Fiddlers, your pins in temper fix,
And rofet weel your fiddle flicks,
But banish vile Italian tricks

Frae out your quorum,

Nor fortes wi pianos mix,

Gie's Tullochgorum.

HOME gie's a fang, the lady cry'd,
And lay your difputes all afide,

COME

What fignifies't for folks to chide
For what's been done before them?
Let Whig and Tory all agree,
Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory,
Let Whig and Tory all agree,

To drop their whipmegmorum.

Let Whig and Tory all agree,
To spend this night with mirth and glee,
And chearfu' fing alang wi' me

The reel of Tullochgorum.

R. FERGUSSON.

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