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GOD SAVE THE KING.

TUNE.

* While Waves rebound from Albion's shore.

YE
E hardy Sons of Honour's Land,
Where Freedom MAGNA CHARTA plann'd

Ye Sovereigns of the Sea;
On ev'ry shore where salt tides roll,
From East to West, from Pole to Pole,
Fair Conquest celebrates your Name,
Witness'd aloud by wond'ring Fame,

When! when will you be free?

Mistake me not, my Hearts of Oak,
I scorn with LIBERTY to joke,

Ye Sovereigns of the Sea ;
No right I blame, I praise no wrong,
But sing an Independent Song,-
Since Ministers must be withstood,
And Patriots are but Flesh and Blood,

I dare with both be free.

While strange told tales from Scribbler's pen,
Disturb the heads of honest men,

Ye Sovereigns of the Sea;
The trash of temporizing Slaves,
Who earn their daily bread as Knaves.
Heedless which side may rise or fall,
The Ready Money—that's their All.

Such fellows can't be free.

We meet for Mirth, we meet to Sing,
And jolly join-God save the King.

Ye Sovereigns of the Sea;
As Honest Instinct points the way,
Our King, our COUNTRY, we obey ;
Yet
pay

to neither side our Court, But Liberty in both support,

As Men who shou'd be free.
Assist, Uphold your Church and State,
See Great Men Good, and Good Men Great ;

Ye Sovereigns of the Sea ;
Shun Party, that unwelcome Guest,
No Tenant for a Briton's Breast.
Forget, Forgive, in Faction's Spite,
Awe All Abroad, at Home unite,

Then, then, my Friends you're free.
Ye Sov'reigns of Wide Ocean's Waves,
To Heroes long enshrin'd in Graves,

A Requiem let us sing ;
1 Alfred, Henry, Edward name,-
Then William, our Deliverer came :---
May future Ages BRUNSWICK own,
Perpetual Heir to England's Throne,
So here's GOD SAVE THE KING.

THE VISION."

TUNE.
* As I went o'er the Meadows, no matter the Day."

S

Thro' Westminster Abbey, I knew, was my way And there I beheld, -or believe that I saw, A terrible Spectre, with Teeth wanting Jaw. The Figure was frightful, as you may suppose, His Sockets were Eyeless, and never a Nose.

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1, trembling, address'd him with—Sir, I presume
Your Worship is walking from Nightingale's Tomb?
As Milton observes, so he grinn'd for a Smile,
And, stalking off, beckon'd me down the dark Aisle.
But faith I won't follow,—and loudly I spoke,
Then took to my heels and I tumbl’d—and 'woke.
My Joy cou'd you guess, when, recover'd, I spy'd
My Girl'sweetly sleeping, and warm by my side ;
Such Lips! such a Neck! then her Cheeks had a hue
Like Roses just moist with the Summer Morn's Dew.
I press’d her close to me, nay held her too tight,
For faith I was scarcely escap'd from my fright.
Awaking, she tenderly call’d out,-My Dear !
What ails you? you shake so, you're not well, I fear ?
What pleasure this is tho', quóth me to myself,
To have Loye alive here, instead of that Élf?
With rapture I felt on the dear Creature's Face,
With rapture the fond one return'd my Embrace.

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Let Fribbles with Beauty as Fribbles behave,
And Pedantry boast, he is no Passion's Slave.
Let Pride, folly.-teeming, lure dress-loving Elves,
To scorn the Enjoyment of alt-but themselves..
Such things we despise, and them only

approves Whose Hearts Esteem ripens from Friendship to

Love.

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A
STROLOGERS lately a Bustle have made,

How round the Sun Venus cou'd dance it, With optic, catoptric, dioptric parade,

To spy how genteel was her Transit. Between you and I, tho' 'twas mal a-propo,

T'examine a fine Woman's Actions, For were we to look among Ladies below,

What Frays it wou'd make? and what Fractions? Good-lack how they look'd at this wonderful Sight.

A wonderful Sight! but what is it? When all came to all, and when all came to light,

Love's Regent, paid Neptune a Visit. Bedew'd by the Salt-water Spray as she rose,

To Apollo her Beautyship run Intending to dry her Olympical Cloaths,

So stood between us and the Sun.

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* Run pro ran, for the Rhime Sake.

While pointing your Glasses, and winking each way,

Inquisitives, what did you see? Does th’ Empress of Joy, now, friends, honestly say,

Wear Garters above, or 'low knee?
A fig for the farce of your schemes and your scrolls,

Eclipses indeed ye may shew,
But as to each Orb which high over us rolls,
Not an Inch past your Noses ye

know.

Into Ditch Thales fell, with his Telescope geer,

At midnight wou'd Stargazing roam, When brought back bedaub’d, all his Spouse said

was, Dear, You had better observe things at home. If Husbands who ramble, this maxim wou'd mind,

And put it but once to the proof, Observe things at Home; go but Home and they'll

find. At Home they had Business enough.

MARIA.

TUNE.
* lanthe Lovely, the Joy of the Plain.

NE day, by appointment, Maria I met,

I yet.

As the meadow we cross'd, to avoid the town's crowd,
The Sun seem'd eclips'd by a black spreading cloud,
Escaping the shower, to Barn we fast fled,
There safe heard the pattering rain over head.

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