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Dick offer'd to lift up the Lass as she lay.
“ So soon Dick will you go ?
Vibrating with heart-heaving sighs,
Her tucker trembling to and fro',
Proclaim'd Possession's glow.
“ A moment! pray sit still,
“ Lord! (cries the Girl) you hasty men,
6. Of Love afford but one poor proof; “ Our Fowls at home, each Sparrow Hen,
66 Is ten times better off. “ No! that you shou'd not, had I known your
design, “ But, since you've had your will, pray let me have
A SIMPLE PASTORAL.
TO A VERY SIMPLE TUNE OF
« Christmas now is coming."
URORA, Lady grey,
Hides her face in blushes ;
See the Clouds transparent,
See the Sunshine rising ; London Rakes,' I warrant,
Wou'd think this surprizing.
See the Sturdy Swains,
Trenching-ploughs are holding; Some on pebbly plains,
Last nights pens unfolding.
How the Swine-yards woo?
How the Herds are lowing ? While the Pigeons coo,
Barn-door fowls are crowing.
Here are Flora's dressings,
Air-fill'd perfume here is, Here Pomona's blessings,
Here the gifts of_Ceres.
Hark! the tinkling Rills,
And the bubbling Fountains; Cascade'o'er the hills,
Tumble down the mountains.
See! at welcome Wakes,
Shew-folks Fire-eating ; While, with Ale and Cakes,
Fack his Girl is treating.
Hark! the distant Drum,
Lasses all look frighted; But, when Soldiers come,
Girls how you're delighted.
Night her shutters closing,
All the Village still is,
Captain calls on Phillis.
While she lets her Spark in,
Shooting Stars are sailing,
Comets dreadful trailing.
For to Scholars thinking,
Omens must be telling ;
Or if waists are swelling.
But, my Lads and Lasses,
Mind a friend's advisings,
To our Falls and Risings.
UPPOSE Twelve has struck, wherefore
pray all this fuss ? Next time 'will strike less, what are Hours to us? Let the Sun rule the day, and the Moon mark the
night; Without Rules, or Schools, sure we know when
The Inf'rence from hence which I draw, but first
drink, A Bumper's the best preparation to think : I infer, nay affirm, and with me you must join, Life's not Life without Love, Love's not Love with
This Truth I'll maintain, thys maintaining my post,
At first we are into this world pulld and teaz’d;
We are Fools in green youth, mankind ripe into
Knaves, Grey hairs turn to Money, or Mistresses Slaves; To our burial from birth, passive objects of Fear, Keep the door shut, and don't let that Scrub slip in
Let Ill-will abuse us, Hypocrisy bawl,
Our Voyage is pleasure, Hope hoists up the Sail,
NO excel in Bon Ton, both as Genius and Critic,
And be quite the thing, Sir, Immense Scientific; On all exhibitions give sentence by guess, With shrugs and stolen phrases that sentence express.
Sing tantararara Taste all. The money you squander your judgement confirms, You need not know Science, repeat but the terms; The labour of Learning belongs to the poor, Do but pay--that's enough for a True Connoisseur.
As to Shakespeare, or Purcell, why you may allow They were well-enough once--but they will not do
now, Admit Neruton's clever, just clever,-- that's all ; And formerly, faith, we might fancy White-halt.