Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy Volume V Part 32

_A_ SONG. _Sung by Mrs._ Bracegirdle.

[Music]

Cease, cease of _Cupid_ to complain, Love, Love's a Joy even while a Pain; Oh! then think! oh! then think; Oh! then think how great his Blisses, Moving Glances, balmy Kisses, Charming Raptures, matchless Sweets, Love, Love alone, Love, Love alone, Love, Love alone, all Joys compleats.

_A_ SONG.

_Sung by Mrs._ BRACEGIRDLE.

[Music]

Come, come ye Nymphs, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain, _Galatea_ leaves the Main, To revive us on the Plain, To revive us, to revive us, to revive us on the Plain; Come, come, come, come ye Nymphs, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain, _Galatea_ leaves the Main, To revive us on the Plain, To revive us on the Plain, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ John Barret.

[Music]

_Ianthia_ the lovely, the Joy of her Swain, By _Iphis_ was lov'd, and lov'd _Iphis_ again; She liv'd in the Youth, and the Youth in the Fair, Their Pleasure was equal, and equal their Care; No Time, no Enjoyment their Dotage withdrew; But the longer they liv'd, but the longer they liv'd, Still the fonder they grew.

A Pa.s.sion so happy alarm'd all the Plain, Some envy'd the Nymph, but more envy'd the Swain; Some swore 'twould be pity their Loves to invade, That the Lovers alone for each other was made: But all, all consented, that none ever knew, A Nymph yet so kind, a Nymph yet so kind, Or a Shepherd so true.

Love saw 'em with Pleasure, and vow'd to take care Of the faithful, the tender, the innocent Pair; What either did want, he bid either to move, But they wanted nothing, but ever to love: Said, 'twas all that to bless him his G.o.d-head cou'd do, That they still might be kind, that they still might be kind, And they still might be true.

_A_ SONG.

[Music]

Bring out your Coney-Skins Bring out your Coney-Skins Maids to me, And hold them fair that I may see, Grey, Black and Blue, for the smaller Skins I'll give you Bracelets, Laces, Pins, And for your whole Coney Here's ready Money, Come gentle _Joan_, do thou begin With thy black Coney, thy black Coney-Skin, And _Mary_ and _Joan_ will follow, With their Silver-hair'd Skins and yellow; The White Coney-Skin I will not lay by, For tho' it be faint, it is fair to the Eye: The Grey it is worn, but yet for my Money, Give me the bonny, bonny black Coney; Come away fair Maids, your Skins will decay, Come and take Money Maids, put your Wares away: Ha'ye any Coney-Skins, ha'ye any Coney-Skins, Ha'ye any Coney-Skins here to sell?

_A_ SONG.

_The Words by Mr._ Clossold, _Set by Mr._ John WILFORD.

[Music]

Nay pish, nay pish, nay pish Sir, what ails you; Lord! What is't you do?

I ne'er met with one so uncivil as you; You may think as you please, but if Evil it be, I wou'd have you to know, you're mistaken in me.

You Men now so rude, and so boistrous are grown, A Woman can't trust her self with you alone: I cannot but wonder what 'tis that shou'd move ye; If you do so again, I swear, I swear, I swear, I swear, I swear I won't love ye.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ Motley.

[Music]

Draw _Cupid_ draw, and make fair _Sylvia_ know; The mighty Pain her suff'ring Swain does for her undergo; Convey this Dart into her Heart, and when she's set on Fire, Do thou return and let her burn, like me in chast desire; That by Experience she, may learn to pity me, Whene'er her Eyes do tyrannize o'er my Captivity: But when in Love we jointly move, and tenderly imbrace, Like Angels shine, and sweetly join to one another's Face.

_A_ SONG; _The Words by a Person of a Quality. Set to Musick by Mr._ Robert Cary.

[Music]

Some brag of their _Chloris_, and some of their _Phillis_, Some cry up their _Caelia_, and bright _Amaryllis_: Thus Poets and Lovers their Mistresses dub, And G.o.ddesses fram'd from the Wash-bowl and Tub; But away with these Fictions, and Counterfeit Folly: There's a thousand more Charms in the Name of my _Dolly_.

I cannot describe you her Beauty and Wit, Like Manna to each she's a relishing Bit; She alone by Enjoyment, the more does prevail, And still with fresh Pleasures does hoist up your Sail: Nay, had you a Surfeit, but took of all others, One Look from my _Dolly_ your Stomach recovers.

_The Mountebank_ SONG. _Sung by Dr._ LEVERIGO, _and his merry Andrew_ Pinkanello, _in_ Farewel to Folly. _Set by Mr._ LEVERIDGE.

[Music:

Here are People and Sports of all sizes and sorts, Coach'd Damsel with Squire, and Mob in the Mire, Tarpaulins, Trugmallions, Lords, Ladys, Sows, Babies, and Loobys in Scores.

Some howling, some Bawling, some Leering, some Fleering, some Loving, some Shoving, with Legions of Furbelow'd Wh.o.r.es.

To the Tavern, some go, and some to a Show, see Poppets for Moppets, Jack-puddings, for Cuddens, Rope Dancing, Mares Prancing, Boats flying, Quacks lying, Pick-pockets, pick Plackets, Beasts, Butchers, and Beaus.

Fops prat'ling, Dies rat'ling, Rooks shaming, Puts Daming, Wh.o.r.es Painted, Mask's tainted, in Tallymans Furbelow'd Cloaths.

The Mobs Joys would you know to yon Musick-house go, see Tailors, and Saylors, Wh.o.r.es Oily in Doily, hear Musick, makes you sick: Cows Skipping, Clowns tripping, some Joaking, some Smoaking, like Spiggit and Tap; short Measure, strange Pleasure thus Billing, and Swilling, some yearly, get fairly, for Fairings Pig, Pork, and a Clap.]