When Swains to an Alehouse by Force do me, Jug, Instead of a Pitcher, I call for a Jugi' And sure you can't chide at repeating! your Name, When the Nightingale every Night does the fame. Sweet Jug he a hundred times o'er does repeat, Which makes People fay, that his Voice is fo fweet. Ah! why doft thou laugh at my forrowful Tale, Too well I'm affur'd that my Words won't pre1708 vail: les For Reger, the Thatcher, poffeffes thy Breast Tho' you court me, and kifs me, and do what you can, "Twill fignify nothing, for Roger's the Man.. SONG CLXXXI. See Phillis, &. With e'ery beauteous Flower, There clafping thee, my Treasure, While you're with Looks expiring, ། My Love, I'll not be cruel, aby s We'll both together die, SONG CLXXXII. O greedy, &c. Greedy Midas I've been told, what you touch'd, you turn'd to 9534 Gold: O had I but a Pow'r like thine, I'd turn whate'er I touch to Wine, I'd turn, Each purling Stream fhou'd feel my Force; Each Fish, &c. And wond'ring at the mighty Change, Shou'd in their native Regions burn, Shou'd in, &c. Nor thou'd there any dare t'approach But first thou'd pay their Votes to me, And file me only God of Wine, And file, . SONG CLXXXIII. As Chloe, &c. S Chloe o'er the Meadow paft, I view'd the lovely Maid; She turn'd and blush'd, renew'd her Hafte, I trembling felt the rifing Flame, The Grafs, at length, my Rival grew, Such Limbs Defcription cannot tell, I help'd the Queen of Love to rife, I know you like my Form and Mien Thofe Parts you ne'er shall touch. The Swain whom you will deign to blefs, In Expectation of the Joy, When you no longer cold or coy, Indulgent Heav'n has made thy Form But now, proud Fair, a Cure I've found In hopeless Flames to burn. And triumph in my Turn. SONG CLXXXIV, The Coquete Rowds of Coxcombs that deluding, Cringing, chatt'ring, Ogling, flatt'ring, By Coquetting, and by Pruding, While at Will the Fools I'm leading, Each imagines he shall gain me, Who defpife him; All their Wiles fhall ne'er obtain me, Like the Winds and Waves ftill changing, Cupid from my Heart eftranging That's as cold as he is blind. SONG CLXXXV. Beneath, &c. B Eneath a Myrtle Shade, Which Love for gone but Lovers made, i lept, and ftraight my Love before me brought Phillis the Object of flames to meet, waking Thought:25 A Undreft the came, my Whilft Love strew'd Flow'rs beneath her Feet, A carelefs Veil of Lawn was loosely spread; But moft her Eyes, which languifh'd with Defire, How long can you my Blifs and yours deny Both fhelter you, and favour me, od won 118 ESH ILA You cannot blush, becaufe I cannot fee. No, let me ipotlefs Name of Maid A Faintly the poke me-thought, for all the while She bid me with a Smile and Then die, not deny'd, And is it thus, thus, thus the cry'd, Kredone You ufe a harmlets Maid? and fo the dy' I wak'd, and straight I knew, tea, July 14 I lov'd fo well, it made my Dream prove true; Fancy the kinder Miftrefs of the two, Fancy had done what Phillis would not dog o SONG CLXXXVI. Methinks, &c. Methinks the poor Town has been troublok long, With Phillis and Chloris in every Song, By Fools who at once can both Love and De fpair, And will never leave calling them cruel and fair: Which justly provokes me in Rhime to exprefs The Truth that I know of my bonny black Bes This Befs of my Heart, this Befs of my Soul, Has a Skin white as Milk, but Hair black as a Coal; She's plump, yet with Eafe you may span round her Waift, But her round fwelling Thighs can scarce be embrac'd: " Her Belly is foft, not a Word of the reft, best. ཏཾ ཀརཱ! The Plowman, and 'Squire, the erranter Clown, At home the fubdu'd in her Paragon Gown; |