Prithee, Lad, leave filly thinking,
Caft thy Cares of Love away;
Let's our Sorrows drown in Drinking,
'Tis Daffin langer to delay.

See that fhining Glafs of Claret,
How invitingly it looks?

Take it aff, and let's have mair o't,
Pox on Fighting, Trade, and Books.
Let's have Pleafure while we're able,
Bring us in the meikle Bowl,
Plac't on th' Middle of the Table,
And let Wind and Weather growl.
Call the Drawer, let him fill it
Fou, as ever it can hold :
O tak tent ye dinna fpill it,

'Tis mair precious far than Gold.
By you've drunk a dozen Bumpers,
Bacchus will begin to prove,
Spite of Venus and her Mumpers,
Drinking better is than Love.

H

SONG CCCX. Clout the Caldron. Ave you any Pots or Pans, Or any broken Chandlers ? I am a Tinkler to my Trade, And newly come frae, Flanders, As fcant of Siller as of Grace, Difbanded, we've a bad Run; Gar tell the Lady of the Place, I'm come to clout her Caldron. Fa adrie, didle, didle, &c. Madam, if you have Wark for me, I'll do't to your Contentment, And dinna care a fingle Flie For any Man's Refentment; For, Lady fair, tho' I appear To every ane a Tinker, Yet to your fell I'm bauld to tell, I am a gentle Jinker. Fa adrie, didle, didle, &c.

Love Jupiter into a Swan
Turn'd, for his lovely Leda;

He like a Bull o'er Meadows ran,

To carry aff Europa,

Then may not I, as well as he,MO? To cheat your Argos Blinker,

And win your Love, like mighty Yove,

Thus hide me in a Tinkler.

Fa adrie, didle, &c.

Sir, ye appear a cunning Man,

1

But this fine Plot you'll fail in,
For there is neither Pot nor Pan.
Of mine you'll drive a Nail in.
Then bind your Budget on your Back,
And Nails up in your Apron,

A

For I've a Tinkler under Tackn-dept That's us'd to clout my Caldron. Si Fa adrie, didle, &c.

SONG CCCXI. The Malt-man; &o
HE Malt-man comes on Murday,
He craves wonder fair,

TH

Cries, Dame, come gr'e me my Siller, 103 Or Malt ye fall ne'er get mair.

I took him into the Pantry,

And gave him fome good Cock-broo, M Syne paid him upon a Gantree, od strea As Hoftler Wives fhould do.

When Malt-men come for Siller,

And Gaugers with Wands o'er foon,

Wives, tak them a' down to the Cellary102
And clear them as I have done.

This bewith when Cunzie is fcanty;; § 2
Will keep them frae making Din,

The Knack I learn'd frae an auld Auntyy
The fnackeft of a my Kin.

The Malt-man is right cunning,

But I can be as flee

T

And he may crack of his Winning, web bak When he clears Scores with met

For come he when he likes, I'm ready;

But if frae hame I be

Let him wait on our kind Lady A
She'll answer a Bill for me.

SONG CCCXII. Belly Haggies."
Essy's Beauties thine fae bright, H
Were her many Virtues fewer, a

B

She wad ever give Delight,

And in Transport make me view her. Bonny Belly, thee alane

Love I, naithing elfe about thee; With thy Comelinefs I'm tane,

And langer cannot live without thee.

Belly's Bofom's faft and warm,
Milk-white Fingers ftill employ'd,
He who takes her to his Arm,
Of her Sweets can ne'er be cloy'd,
My dear Belly, when the Rofes

Leave thy Cheek, as thou grows aulder,

Virtue, which thy growing

Will keep Love

Belly's Tocher is but fcanty,

caulder.

Yet her Face and Soul difcovers Those inchanting Sweets in plenty Muft intice a thoufand Lovers. It's not Money, but a Woman Of a Temper kind and cafy, That gives Happiness uncommon,

Petted Things can nought but teeze ye.

SONG CCCXIII. Omnia vincit Amer.

SI went forth to view the Spring

A Which Flora bad adorned

In Raiment fair; now every Thing
The Rage of Winter fcorned:
I caft mine Eye, and did espy

A Youth, who made great Clamour;
And drawing nigh, I heard him cry,
Ah omnia vincit Amer.

Upon his Breaft he day along,
Hard by a murm'ring River,"
And mournfully his doleful Song
With Sighs he did deliver,

Ah! Jenny's Face, and comely Grace,
Hor Locks that thin'd like Lammer,
With burning Rays have cut my Days'
For omnia vincit Amor."

Her glancy Een like Comets fheen,
The Morning Sun out-fhining,
Have caught my Heart in Cupid's Net,
And make me die with Pining.
Durft I complain, Nature's to blame,
So curiously to frame her,

Whose Beauties rare make me with Care
Cry, omnia vincit Amor.

Ye chryftal Streams that wiftly glide,
Be Partners of my Mourning!
Ye fragrant Fields and Meadows wide,
Condemn her for her Scorning:
Let every Trée a Witness be,

How juftly I may blame her:

1

Ye chanting Birds note thefe my Words,
Ah! omnia inclt Amor.

Had the been kind as the was fair,
She long had been admir'd,
And been ador'd for Virtues rare,

Wh' of Life now makes me tir d.
Thus faid, his Breath begun to fail,

He could not fpeak, but ftammer;

He figh'd full fore, and faid no more, .07 But omnia vincit Amor.

When I obferv'd him near to Death,

I run in hafte to fave him;
But quickly he refign'd his Breath;

So deep the Wound Love gave him.
Now for his Sake, this Vow I'll make,
My Tongue Thall ay defame her:
While on His Herfe I'll write this Verse,
Ah! omnia vincit “Minor,

Straight I confider'd in my Mind.
Upon the Matter rightly,

And found, tho' Cupid he be blind,
He proves in Pith moft mighty.
For warlike Mars, nor thund'ring Jove,
And Vulcan with his Hammer,
Did ever prove the Slaves of Love,
For omnia vincit Amor.

Hence we may fee th Effects of Love,
Which Gods and Men keep under,
That nothing can his Bonds remove,
Or Torments break afunder:

Nor Wife, nor Fool, need go to School,
To learn this from his Grammar;
His Heart's the Book where he's to look,
For omnia vincit Amor.

SONG CCCXIV. The auld Wife.

Here was a Wife won'd in a Glen,
And the had Daughters nine or ten,

That fought the Houfe baith butt and benn,
To find their Mam a Snishing.
The auld Wife beyont the Fire,
The auld Wife anieft the Fire,
The anld Wife aboon the Fire,
She died for Lack of Snishing..
Her Mill into some Hole had fawn:
What recks, quoth fhe, let it be gawn,
For I maun ha'e a young Goodman
Shall furnish me with Snishing.
The auld Wife, &c.

Her eldeft Dochter faid, right bauld,
Fy, Mother, mind that now ye're auld,
And If ye with a Yonker wald,

He'll wafte

away your Snishing. The auld Wife, &c.

The youngest Dochter ga'e a Shout, O Mother dear! your Teeth's is a' out,

i