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a collection of poems are entirely expunged. Besides a vast number of modern fongs of real merit, inferted in this Collection, will be found the new fongs fung at the Public Gardens fince the first publication; likewife a few favourite cantatas, catches and glees; to which is added a number of original toasts and fentiments not to be met with in any other book. As there have been frequent complaints, that publications of this kind often abound with ribaldry and indecency, the greatest care has been paid in felecting, totally to exclude every thing that would have the smallest tendency to corrupt the morals or offend the ear of the moft delicate reader.

How far the Editors' endeavours have been fuccefsful, in rendering this Collection an agreeable companion to the focial mind, they muft leave to the determination of the Public.

INDE X.

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S Damon and Phillis were feeding their sheep, 10
Alk you who is finging here,

All hail to the day that merits more praife,
At the brow of the hill a fair fhepherdess dwelt,
As how my bloom comes on apace,

Attend all ye fhepherds and nymphs to my lay,
As thro' the green meadow I chanced to pass,
Awake my love with genial ray,

A dawn of hope my foul revives,
Adieu ye ftreams that fmoothly glide,
Alas! when charming Sylvia's gone,
At noon-tide as Colin and Sylvia lay,
Amidft a rofy bank of flowers,

As bringing home the other day

A term full as long as the fiege of old Troy,

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As Jamie gay gang'd blithe his way,
A friend of mine came here yeftreen,

Afk if yon damask rose be sweet,

As thro' the grove the other day,

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Away to the field, fee the morning looks gray,
Alas, my fon, you little know,

As Hebe was 'tending her sheep t'other day,

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Alexis fhun'd his fellow fwains,

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As on the banks of Tweed I lay reclin'd,

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As down on Banna's banks I ftray'd,

A Parson who had a remarkable foible,
A plague of thofe musty old lubbers,

Bufy humble bee am I,

B

By the fide of a ftream at the foot of a hill,

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Blithe young Befs to Jean did fay,

Beneath a green fhade a lovely young fwain,

Britons, loyal and bold,

Bright Sol is return'd, the winter is o'er,

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By Pinky house oft let me walk,

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By the gayly circling glafs,

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Behold this fair goblet, 'twas carv'd from the tree, 145

Behold from many a hoftile fhore,

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But are you fure the news is true,

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Braw, braw lads of Galla water,

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Come live with me, and be my love,

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Come hear me, my boy, haft a mind to live long,

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Contented all day I will fit by your fide,

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Come, gie's a fang the lady cries,

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Come hafte to the wedding ye friends and ye neighbours, 47 Come cheer up my lads, 'tis to glory we fteer,

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Ceafe, rude Boreas, bluft'ring railer,

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Coming home with my milk the young 'fquire I met, 74

Come all ye young lovers who wan with despair,

Come, jolly Bacchus, god of wine,

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Come, come my good fhepherds,
Come Colin, pride of rural swains,
Come, Amanda, charming creature,
Come gentle god of soft repose,
Cupid god of ebon bow,

Come ye lads who wish to shine,

Down by yon fhady grove,

D.

De'il tak' the wars that hurried Billy from me,

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Dear Chloe come give me sweet kisses,

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Do you hear, brother sportsman,

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Down top gallant fails, ftand by your lee braces,
Donald's a fhentleman, an' evermore shall,

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Down the burn and thro' the mead,

Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with

mild ale,

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E.

Ere Phoebus fhall peep on the fresh-budding flow'r, 113 Encompafs'd in an angel's frame,

F.

Fill me a bowl, a mighty bowl,
From Roflin Caftle's echoing walls,
For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove,
For the lack of gold fhe has left me,
From fweet bewitching tricks of love,

G.

Guardian angels hov'ring near me,

Gay Damon long study'd my heart to obtain,
Guardian angels now protect me,

Gin I had a wee house, and a canty wee fire,
Go patter to lubbers, and fwabs d'ye fee,

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ib.

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H.

How hard is the fortune of all womenkind,

How happy a lover's life paffes,

How happy were my days till now,

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How dare you, bold Strephon, prefume thus to prate, 80

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Her fheep had in clusters crept close to the grove,

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