Why look with infolent difdain

On thofe undeck'd with wealth or ftate?
Can coftly robes, or beds of down,
Or all the gems that deck the fair;
Can all the glories of a crown

Give health,

or eafe the brow of Care?

The fcepter'd king, the burden'd slave,
The humble and the haughty die;
The rich, the poor, the bafe, the brave,
In duft, without diftinction lie.
Go fearch the tombs where monarchs rest,
Who once the greatest titles wore,
Of wealth and glory they're bereft,
And all their honours are no more.

So flies the meteor thro' the skies,
And spreads along a gilded train ;
When fhot-'tis gone; its beauty dies,
Diffolves to common air again.
So 'tis with us, my jovial fouls,—
Let friendship reign, while here we ftay:
Let's crown our joy with flowing bowls;
When Jove commands we must obey.

By a Brother of the Lodge of St Luke, Edinburgh.

IN

Tune,-In the garb of old Gaul.

N the dress of Free Mafons, fit garments for Jove, With the ftrongeft attachment, true brotherly love, We now are affembl'd, all jovial and free,

For who are fo wife, and fo happy as we?

And fince we're bound by fecrecy to unity and love, Let us, like brethren, faithful to ev'ry brother prove: Thus, hand in hand, let's firmly ftand,

All Mafons in a ring, Protectors of our native land, The Craft, and the King.

Tho' fome, with ambition, for glory contend, And when they've attain'd it, defpife each poor Yet a Mafon, tho' noble, his fame to infure, Counts each Mafon his brother tho' ever fo poor. And fince we're bound, &c.

But not to our brethren alone we confine
That brotherly love, that affection divine;
For our kind-hearted fifters in that bear a fhare,
And, as we admire, we're belov'd by the fair.

friend,

And fince we're bound by fecrecy to unity and love, Let us, like brethren, faithful ftill to ev'ry fister prove, &c.

With juftice, with candour, our bofoms are warm'd, Our tongues are with truth and fincerity arm'd; We're loyal, we're trufty, we're faithful to thofe, Who treat us as friends, and we fmile at our foes. And fince we're bound, &c.

We bend to the King, to our Master we bend;
For these are the rulers we're bound to defend :
And when fuch a King, such a Master arise,
As Britons, as Mafons, we've caufe to rejoice.
And fince we're bound, &c.

Jenny. S

TERN winter has left us, the trees are in

STER bloom,

And cowflips and vi'lets the meadows perfumes

While kids are difporting, and birds fill the fpray,
I wait but for Jockey to hail the new May.

Jockey. Among the young lilies, my Jenny, I've stray'd,
Pinks, daifies, and woodbines I bring to my maid;
Here's thyme fweetly fmelling, and lavender gay,
A pofy to form for my Queen of the May.

Jenny. Ah! Jockey, I fear you intend to beguile,
When feated with Molly laft night on the stile,
You fwore that you'd love her for ever and ay,
Forgetting poor Jenny, your Queen of the May.

Jockey. Young Willy is handfome, in fhepherd's green dreft,

He gave you these ribbons that hang at your breaft, Befides three fweet kisses upon the new hay;

Was that done like Jenny, the Queen of the May?

Jenny. This garland of rofes no longer I prize,
Since Jockey, falfe-hearted, his paffion denies :
Ye flowers, fo blooming, this inftant decay,
For Jenny's no longer the Queen of the May.

Jockey. Believe me, dear maiden, your lover you

wrong,

Your name is for ever the theme of my fong;
From the dews of pale eve' to the dawning of day,
I fing but of Jenny, my Queen of the May.

Jenny. Again, balmy comfort with transport I view,
My fears are all vanish'd fince Jockey is true :
Then to our blithe fhepherds the news I'll convey,
That Jenny alone you've crown'd Queen of the May.

Jockey. Come all

you young lovers, I pray you draw near, Avoid all fufpicion, whate'er may appear; Believe not your eyes, left your peace they betray: Then come, my dear Jenny, and hail the new May. Come all young lovers, &c.

N

HIGHLAND QUEEN.

O more my song shall be, ye swains,
Of purling ftreams, or flow'ry plains ;
More pleafing beauties me inspire,
And Phoebus tunes the warbling lyre :
Divinely aided, thus I mean

To celebrate my Highland Queen.

In her, fweet innocence you'll find,
With freedom, truth, and beauty join'd;
From pride and affectation free,
Alike the fmiles on you and me.

The brightest nymph that trips the green,
I do pronounce my Highland Queen.

No fordid wish, or trifling joy,
Her settled calm of mind destroy ;
Strict honour fills her fpotlefs foul,
And adds a luftre to the whole;
A matchless shape, a graceful mein,
All centre in my Highland Queen.

How bleft that youth, whom gentle Fate
Has deftin'd for fo fair a mate;
Has all these wond'rous gifts in store,
And each returning day brings more:
No youth fo happy can be seen,
Poffeffing thee, my Highland Queen.

That's lately yielded up her heart
A conqueft to Love's pow'rful dart,
And now would fain attempt to fing
The praifes of my Highland King.

Jamie, the pride of all the green,
Is juft my age, e'en
gay fifteen ;
When first I faw him, 'twas the day
That ushers in the sprightly May,
When first I felt Love's pow'rful fting,
And figh'd for my dear Highland King.

With him, for beauty, shape, and air,
No other shepherd can compare;
Good-nature, honesty, and truth,
Adorn the dear, the matchlefs youth,
And graces, more than I can fing,
Bedeck my charming Highland King.

Would once the dearest boy but fay,
'Tis
you I love; come, come away,
Unto the kirk, my love, let's hie;
Ye gods! in rapture I'd comply;
And I should then have cause to fing
The praises of my Highland King.

T

H

Ow hard is the fortune of all woman-kind?

For

ever fubjected; for ever confin'd.

Our parents controul us until we are wives,

And our husbands enflave us the rest of our lives.

If only we love, yet we dare not reveal,

But fecretly languifh, compel'd to conceal:
Deny'd ev'ry pleasure of life to enjoy,

We're fham'd if we're kind, and we're blam'd if we're

coy.