Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy Volume V Part 30

She saw him Yawn, and heard him Snore, And found him fast a sleep all o're; She sigh'd ---- and cou'd no more, But starting up she said, Such Vertue shou'd rewarded be, For this thy dull Fidelity; I'll trust thee with my Flocks, not me, Pursue thy Grazing Trade.

Go milk thy Goats, and Sheer thy Sheep, And watch all Night thy Flocks, to keep; Thou shalt no more be lull'd asleep, By me mistaken Maid.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ Jeremy Clark.

[Music]

While the Lover is thinking, With my Friend I'll be Drinking And with Vigour pursue my Delight; While the Fool is designing, His fatal confining, With _Bacchus_ I'll spend the whole Night: With the G.o.d I'll be Jolly, Without Madness or Folly.

Fickle Woman to Marry Implore, Leave my Bottle and Friend, For so Foolish an end, When I do, may I never Drink more.

_A Health to the_ TACKERS.

[Music]

Here's a Health to the Tackers, my Boys, But mine A----se for the Tackers about; May the brave _English_ Spirits come in, And the Knaves and _Fanaticks_ turn out: Since the _Magpyes_ of late, are confounding the State, And wou'd pull our Establishments down; Let us make 'em a Jest, for they s.h.i.t in their Nest, And be true to the Church and the Crown.

Let us chuse such Parliament Men As have stuck to their Principles tight; And wou'd not their Country betray In the Story of _Ashby_ and _White_: Who care not a T----d, for a _Whig_, or a Lord, That won't see our Accounts fairly stated; For _C----ll_ ne'er fears, the Address of those Peers, Who the Nation of Millions have Cheated.

The next thing adviseable is, Since _Schism_ so strangely abounds; To oppose e'ery Man that's set up By _Dissenters_, in Corporate Towns: For _High-Church_, and _Low-Church_, has brought us to no _Church_, And Conscience so bubbl'd the Nation; For who is not still for Conformity Bill, Will be surely a R---- on Occasion.

_A_ SONG.

_Set by Mr._ ANTHONY YOUNG.

[Music]

Since _Caelia_ only has the Art, And only she can Captivate, And wanton in my Breast; All other Pleasure I despise, Than what are from my _Caelia's_ Eyes, In her alone I'm blest.

Whene'er she Smiles, new Life she gives, And happy, happy who receives, From her Inchanting Breath; Then prithee _Caelia_ smile once more, Since I no longer must adore, For when you frown 'tis Death.

_A_ SONG.

[Music]

Ah! how lovely sweet and dear, Is the kind relenting Fair, Who Reprieve us in Despair; Oh! that thus my Nymph wou'd say, Come, come my Dear thy Cares repay, Be Blest my Love, be mine to Day: _Come, come my dear, thy Cares repay,_ _Be blest my Love, be mine to Day._

_A_ SONG. _Sung by Mrs._ Bracegirdle.

[Music]

Advance, advance, advance gay Tenants of the Plain, Advance, advance, advance, gay Tenants of the Plain, Loud Eccho spread my Voice, Loud Eccho spread my Voice, Loud Eccho, loud Eccho, loud Eccho, Loud Eccho, loud Eccho, spread my Voice, Advance, advance, advance, gay Tenants of the Plain, Advance, advance, advance, gay Tenants of the Plain.

_The_ KING _and the Shepherd, and_ GILLIAN _the Shepherd's Wife, with her churlish Answer to the_ KING.

[Music]

In Elder Time, there was of Yore, When Guides of churlish Glee; Were us'd among our Country Earls, Though no such thing now be.

The which King _Alfred_ liking well, Forsook his stately Court; And in Disguise unknown went forth, To see that jovial Sport.

How _d.i.c.k_ and _Tom_, in clouted Shoon, And Coats of russet Grey, Esteem'd themselves more brave than them, That went in Golden ray.

In Garments fit for such a Life, The good King _Alfred_ went, All ragg'd and torn, as from his Back The Beggar his Cloaths had rent.

A Sword and Buckler good and strong, To give _Jack Sauce_ a rap; And on his Head, instead of Crown, He wore a _Monmouth_ Cap.

Thus coasting through _Somersetshire_, Near _Newton_ Court he met A Shepherd Swain of l.u.s.ty Limb, That up and down did jet.

He wore a Bonnet of good Grey, Close b.u.t.toned to his Chin; And at his Back a leather Scrip, With much good Meat therein.

G.o.d speed, good Shepherd, quoth the King, I come to be thy Guest; To taste of thy good Victuals here, And drink that's of the best.

Thy Scrip I know, hath Cheer good store, What then the Shepherd said?

Thou seem'st to be some st.u.r.dy Thief, And mak'st me sore afraid.

Yet if thou wilt thy Dinner win, The Sword and Buckler take; And if thou canst into my Scrip, Therewith an entrance make.

I tell thee, Roister, it hath store Of Beef, and Bacon fat; With sheafs of Barly-bread to make Thy Mouth to water at.

Here stands my Bottle, here my Bag, If thou canst win them Roister; Against the Sword and Buckler here, My Sheep-hook is my Master.

_Benedicit_ now, quoth our good King, It never shall be said; That _Alfred_ of the Shepherd's Hook, Will stand a whit afraid.

So soundly thus they both fell to't, And giving Bang for Bang; At every Blow the Shepherd gave, King _Alfred's_ Sword cry'd tw.a.n.g.