WH

SONG.

HEN Jove was refolv'd to create the round earth,
He fubpened the Virtues divine,-

Young Bacchus he fat præcedentum of mirth,
And the toast was " wit, women, and wine.”

The fentiment tickl'd the ear of each God,-
Apollo, he wink'd at the Nine;

And Venus gave Mars, too, a fly wanton nod,
When he drank to wit, women, and wine.

Old Jove fhook his fides, and the cup put around,
While Juno, for once, look'd divine;

These bleflings, says he, fhall on earth now abound, And the toaft is wit, women, and wine.

These are joys, worthy Gods, which to mortals are given,

Says MoмUS, who will not repine?

For what's worth our notice, pray tell me, in heav'n,

If man have wit, women, and wine.

This joke you'll repent, I'll lay fifty to seven,
Such attraction no pow'r can decline;

Old Jove, by yourself you will keep house in heav'n,
For we'll follow wit, women, and wine.

Thou'rt right, fays Old Jove, let us hence to the earth, Men and Gods think variety fine;

Who'd ftay in the clouds, when GOODNATURE and MIRTH

Are below, with wit, women, and wine.

SONG.

THE ТОВАССО вох;

OR, SOLDIER's PLEDGE OF LOVE.

Thomas.

A TWO PART SONG

THOUGH the fate of battle on to-morrow wait, Let's not lofe our prattle now, my charming

Kate;

Till the hour of glory, love fhould now take place, Nor damp the joys before us with a future cafe.

Kate.

O! my Thomas, still be constant, still be true;
O be to your Kate, as Kate is still to you;
Glory will attend you, ftill make us bleft,-
With my firmest love, my dear, you're still possess'd.

Thomas.

No new beauties tafted, I'm their arts above,— Three campaigns are wasted, but not fo my love; Anxious still about thee, thou art all I prize, Never, Kate, without thee will I bung thefe eyes,

Kate.

Conftant to my Thomas I will still remain,

Nor think that I will leave thy fide the whole campaign; But I'll cherish thee, and ftrive to make thee bold, May'st thou share the vict'ry,-may'ft thou fhare. the gold.

Thomas.

If, by fome bold action, I the halbert bear,
Think what fatisfaction when my rank you share;
Drefs'd like any lady fair from top to toe,-
Fine laced caps and ruffles then shall be your due.
Kate.

If a ferjeant's lady I fhould chance to prove,
Linen shall be ready always for my love;
Never more will Kate the Captain's laundress be,
I'm too pretty, Thomas, love, for all but thee.

Thomas.

Here, Kate, take my 'BACCO Box, a foldier's all;
If by Frenchman's blows your Tom is doom'd to fall;
When my life is ended, thou may'st boast and prove,
Thou'dft my firft, my last, my only pledge of love.

Kate.

Here, take back thy 'Bacco Box,-thou'rt all to me,
Nor think but I'll be near thee, love, to fee;
In the hour of danger let me always fhare,-
I'll not be kept a ftranger to my foldier's fare.

Thomas.

Check that rising figh, Kate, stop that falling tear,— Come, my pretty comrade, entertain no fear;

But may heav'n befriend us! Hark! the drum com

Now I will attend you. Love, I kiss thy hand.

Both.

I cannot stop thofe tears, tho' crying I difdain,
But must own 'tis trying hard the point to gain :
May good heav'n defend thee, conqueft on thee wait;
One kifs more-and then 1 give thee up to fate.

Both repeat the last verse only Thomas says,
Conqueft on me wait,
Yield myself to fate.

THE

In dalliance foft, and am'rous play,

On Amphytrite's breast;

When Uproar rear'd her horrid head,

The Tritons fhrunk, the Neriads fled,

And all their fears confeft.

II.

Loud Thunder fhook the vaft domain,
The liquid world was wrapt in flame,
The God amazed spoke,

Ye winds! go forth, and make it known,
Who dares to shake my coral throne,
And fill my realms with fmoak.

III.

The winds, obfequious at his nod,
Sprang ftrongly up t' obey their God,
And faw two fleets away:

The one, VICTORIOUS HAWKE, was thine,
The other Conflans' wretched line,
In terror and dismay.

IV.

Then down defcend, and tell their chief,
That France was ruin'd paft relief,
And HAWKE triumphant rode:

Hawke! cries the chief, pray who is he?
That dares ufurp my power at sea,

And thus infult a God?