From passing strangers aid entreating,

I wander thus alone, forgot.
Relieve my woes, my wants distressing,
And Hear'n reward you with its blessing.
Here's tales of love, and maids forsaken,
Of battles fought, and captives taken :
The jorial tar so boldly sailing,

Or cast upon some desert shore;
The hapless bride her loss bewailing,

And fearing ne'er to see him more.

Relieve my woes, my wants distressing, And Heav'n reward you with its blessing.

O LISTEN to the voice of Love,

He calls my Daphne to the grove : The primrose sweet bedecks the field,

The tuneful birds invite to rove :
To softer joys let splendor yield,

O listen to the voice of love.
Where flow'rs their fragrant sweets exhale,

My Daphne! fondly let us stray,
Where whisp'ring love breathes forth his tale,

And shepherds sing their artless lay.
Come, share with me the sweets of spring,

And leave the town's tumultuous noise ;
"The happy swains all cheerful sing,
And echo still repeats their joys:

Theo listen, &c.


WHEN the rosy morn, appearing,

Paints with gold the verdant lawn, Bees, on banks of thyme disporting,

Sip the sweets, and hail the dawn.


Who can, like Aristippus, his passions con

troul; Of wisest philosophers wisest was he, Who, attentive to ease, let his mind still be free; The prince, peer, and peasant, to him were the

same, For, pleas’d, he was pleasing to all where he came, But still turn'd his back on contention and strife, Resolving to live all the days of his life. A friend to mankind, all mankind was his friend And the peace of his mind was his ultimate end;

He He found fault with none, if none found fault

with him, If a friend liad a humour, he humour'd his whim; If wine was the word, why he bumper'd his glass; If love was the topic, he toasted his lass;

But still turn'd his back, &c,

If councils disputed, if councils agreed,
He found fault with neither, for this was his creed,
That let them be guided by folly or sense,
'Twould be semper eadem a hundred years hence,
He tħought 'twas unsocial to be malcontent,
If the tide went with him, with the tide too he went.

But still turn'd his back, &c.

Was the nation at war, he wish'd well to the sword;
If a peace was concluded, a peace was his word;
Disquiet to him, of body or mind,
Was the longitude only he never could find.
The philosopher's stone was but gravel and pain,
And all who had sought it, had sought it in vain:

He still turn'd his back, &c.

Then let us all follow Aristippus's rules,
And deem his opponents both asses and mules;
Let those not contented to lead or to drive,
By the bees of their sects be drove out of the live,
Expell’d from the mansions of quiet and ease,
May they never find out the blest art how to please;
Whilè our friends and ourselves, not forgetting

our wives, By those maxims may live all the days of our lives.


ON ,

Richmond-hill there lives a lass, Whose charms all other maids surpass,

A rose without a thorn.

This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet,

Has won my right good will;. I'd crowns resign to call her mine,

Sweet lass of Richmond-hill.

Ye Zephyrs gay, that fan the air,

And wanton through the grove, Oh! whisper to my charming fair,

I die for her and love.

How happy will that shepherd be

Who calls this nymph his own! Oh ! may her choice be fix'd on me;

Mine's fix'd on hier alone!

THE day is departed and round from the cloud


The moon in her beauty appears;
The voice of the nightingale warbles aloud

The music of love in our ears:
Maria, appear ! now the season, so sweet,

With the beat of the heart is in tune,
The time is so tender for lovers to meet,
Alone by the light of the moon.

I cannot,


I cannot, when present, unfold what I feel,

I sigh-can a lover do ingre?
Her name to the shepherds I never reveal,

Yet I think of her all the day o'er.
Maria, my love! do you long for the grove?

Do you sigh for an interview soon?
Does e'er a kind thought run on me as you rove

Alone by the light of the moon?

Your name from the shepherds whenever I hear

My bosom is all in a glow;
Your voice when it vibrates so sweet thro’my ear,

My heart thrills-my eyes overflow.
Ye pow'rs of the sky! will your bounty divine

Indulge a fond lover his boon?
Shall heart spring to heart, and Maria be mine,

Alone by the light of the moon?

I Ma brisk and sprightly lad,

But just come home from sea, Sir;
Of all the lives I ever led,

A sailor's life for me! Sir.
Yeo, yeo, yeo, yeo, yeo, yeo, yeo, yeo,
While the boatswain pipes

all hands, With yeo, yeo, yeo, yeo, yeo, sir.

What girl but loves the merry tar?

We o'er the ocean roarn, sir; In ev'ry clime we find a port,

In ev'ry port-a home, sir,


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