Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy Volume V Part 12

At Chris'nings I'll sit with abundance of Joy, And Drink to the Health of the Girl or the Boy, At the same I wish that Fate both would destroy, _That I may Ring_, &c.

What e'er's my Religion, my Meaning's to Thrive, So the Child that is born, to the Font but survive, No matter how short it's continuance alive, _That I may Ring_, &c.

Hear then my good Neighbours attend to my cry, And bravely get Children, and decently die, No s.e.xton now breathing shall use you as I, _With a Ring a Ring, Ring a Ring, Dig a Dig, Dig._

_The Great_ b.o.o.bEE.

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My Friend if you would understand, My Fortunes what they are; I once had Cattle House and Land, But now I am never the near: My Father left a good Estate, As I may tell to thee; I couzened was of all I had, _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

I went to School with a good intent, And for to learn my Book; And all the Day I went to play, In it I never did look: Full seven Years, or very nigh, As I may tell to thee; I could hardly say my Criss-Cross-Row, _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

My Father then in all the hast, Did set me to the Plow; And for to lash the Horse about, Indeed I knew not how: My Father took his Whip in Hand, And soundly lashed me; He called me Fool and Country Clown, _And a great b.o.o.bee_.

But I did from my Father run, For I would Plow no more; Because he had so lashed me, And made my sides so sore: But I will go to _London_ Town, Some Fashions for to see; When I came there they call'd me Clown, _And a great b.o.o.bee_.

But as I went along the Street, I carried my Hat in my Hand, And to every one that I did meet, I bravely Buss'd my Hand: Some did laugh, and some did scoff, And some did mock at me; And some did say I was a Woodc.o.c.k, _And a great b.o.o.bee_.

Then I did walk in hast to _Paul's_ The Steeple for to view; Because I heard some People say, It should be builded new; Then I got up unto the Top, The City for to see; It was so high it made me cry, _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

From thence I went to _Westminster_, And for to see the Tombs: Oh, said I, what a House is here, With an infinite sight of Rooms: Sweetly the Abby Bells did Ring, It was a fine sight to see; Methought I was going to Heav'n in a String, _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

But as I went along the Street, The most part of the Day; Many Gallants I did meet, Methought they were very gay: I blew my Nose and pist my Hose, Some People did me see: They said I was a Beastly Fool: _And a great b.o.o.bee_.

Next Day I thro' _Pye-corner_ past, The Roast-meat on the Stall; Invited me to take a Taste, My Money was but small: The Meat I pickt, the Cook me kickt, As I may tell to thee; He beat me sore and made me roar, _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

As I thro' _Smithfield_ lately walkt, A gallant La.s.s I met: Familiarly with me she talk't, Which I cannot forget: She proferr'd me a Pint of Wine, Methought she was wondrous free, To the Tavern then I went with her, _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

She told me we were near of Kin, And call'd for Wine good store; Before the Reckoning was brought in, My Cousin prov'd a Wh.o.r.e: My Purse she pickt, and went away, My Cousin couzened me, The Vintner kickt me out of Door; _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

At the _Exchange_ when I came there, I saw most gallant things; I thought the Pictures living were, Of all our English Kings: I doft my Hat and made a Leg, And kneeled on my Knee; The People laugh'd and call'd me Fool, _And a great b.o.o.bee_.

To _Paris-Garden_ then I went, Where there is great resort; My Pleasure was my Punishment, I did not like the Sport: The Garden-Bull with his stout Horns, On high then tossed me; I did bewray my self with fear, _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

The Bearward went to save me then, The People flock'd about; I told the Bear-Garden-Men, My Guts they were almost out: They said I stunk most grievously, No Man would pity me; They call'd me witless Fool and a.s.s, _And a great b.o.o.bee_.

Then o'er the water I did pa.s.s, As you shall understand; I dropt into the Thames, ala.s.s, Before I came to Land: The Waterman did help me out, And thus did say to me; 'Tis not thy fortune to be drown'd, _Like a great b.o.o.bee_.

But I have learned so much Wit, Shall shorten all my Cares; If I can but a Licence get, To play before the Bears: 'Twould be a gallant Place indeed, As I may tell to thee: Then who dares call me Fool or a.s.s, _Or great b.o.o.bee_.

_Set by Mr._ Jeremiah Clark,

_Sung by Mr._ LEVERIDGE.

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When Maids live to Thirty, yet never repented, When _Europe's_ at Peace and all _England_ contented, When Gamesters won't Swear, and no bribery thrives, Young Wives love old Husbands, young Husbands old Wives; When Landlords love Taxes, and Soldiers love Peace: And Lawyers forget a rich Client to Fleece: When an old Face shall please as well as a new, Wives, Husbands, and Lovers will ever be true.

When Bullies leave huffing and Cowards their Trembling, And Courtiers and Women and Priests their Dissembling, When these shall do nothing against what they teach, Pluralities hate, and we mind what they Preach: When Vintners leave Brewing to draw the Wine pure, And Quacks by their Medicines kill less than they Cure, When an old Face shall please as well as a new, Wives, Husbands and Lovers will ever be true.

_Words to a Tune of_ Mr. BARRET'S, _call'd the_ CATHERINE.

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In the pleasant Month of _May_, When the merry, merry Birds began to sing; And the Blossoms fresh and gay; Usher'd in the welcome Spring, When the long cold Winter's gone, And the bright enticing Moon, In the Evening sweetly shon: When the bonny Men and Maids tript it on the Gra.s.s; At a jolly Country Fair, When the Nymphs in the best appear; We resolv'd to be free, with a Fiddle and a She, E'ery Shepherd and his La.s.s.

In the middle of the Sport, When the Fiddle went brisk and the Gla.s.s went round, And the Pretty gay Nymphs for Court, With their Merry Feet beat the Ground; Little _Cupid_ arm'd unseen, With a Bow and Dart stole in, With a conquering Air and Mien, And empty'd his Bow thro' the Nymphs and the Swains; E'ery Shepherd and his Mate, Soon felt their pleasing Fate, And longing to try in Enjoyment to die, Love reign'd o'er all the Plains.

Now the sighing Swain gave o'er, And the wearied Nymphs could dance no more, There were other Thoughts that mov'd, E'ery pretty kind Pair that Lov'd: In the Woods the Shepherds lay, And mourn'd the time away, And the Nymphs as well as they, Long'd to taste what it is that their Senses cloys, Till at last by consent of Eyes, E'ery Swain with his pretty Nymph flies, E'ery Buxom She retires with her He, To act Love's solid Joys.

_A_ Scotch SONG. _Sung by Mrs._ LUCAS _at the Old_ THEATRE.

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By Moon-light on the Green, Our bonny La.s.ses Cooing; And dancing there I've seen, Who seem'd alone worth Wooing: Her Skin like driven Snow, Her Hair brown as a Berry: Her Eyes black as a Slow, Her Lips red as a Cherry.

Oh how she tript it, skipt it, Leapt it, stept it, whiskt it, Friskt it, whirld it, twirl'd it, Swimming, springing, starting: So quick, the tune to nick, With a heave and a toss: And a jerk at parting, With a heave, and a toss, and a jerk at parting.

As she sat down I bowed, And veil'd my bonnet to her; Then took her from the Crowd, With Honey words to woo her; Sweet blithest La.s.s, quoth I, It being bleaky Weather: I prithee let us try, Another Dance together; _Oh how she_, &c.

Whilst suing thus I stood, Quoth she, pray leave your fooling; Some Dancing heats the Blood, But yours I fear lacks cooling: Still for a Dance I pray'd, And we at last had Seven; And whilst the Fiddle play'd, She thought her self in Heaven, _Oh how she_, &c.

At last she with a Smile, To Dance again desir'd me; Quoth I, pray stay a while, For now good faith ye've tir'd me: With that she look'd on me, And sigh'd with muckle sorrow; Than gang ye'ar gate, quoth she, But Dance again to morrow.

_The_ QUAKER'S SONG. _Sung by Mrs._ Willis _at the New Play-House._

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