Quiet harmless Country Pleasure, Shall at home engross my Leisure; Farewel _London_, I"ll repair, To my Native Country Air: I leave all thy Pleasures behind me, But at home my Wife will find me; Oh the G.o.ds! "tis ten times worse, _London_ is a milder Curse.
_The Duke of_ ORMOND"S _March._
_Set by Mr._ CHURCH.
[Music]
Ye brave Boys and Tars, That design for the Wars, Remember the Action at _Vigo_; And where ORMOND Commands, Let us all joyn our Hands, _And where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
Let Conquest and Fame, The Honour proclaim, Great ORMOND has gotten at _Vigo_; Let the Trumpets now sound, And the Ecchoes around, _Where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
Let the Glories be Sung, Which the ORMONDS have won, Long before this great Action at _Vigo_; They"re so Loyal and Just, And so true to their Trust, _That where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
Old Records of Fame, Of the ORMONDS great Name, Their Actions, like these were of _Vigo_; And since this Prince exceeds, In his Fore-Father"s Deeds, _Then where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
"Tis the Praise of our Crown, That such Men of Renown, Shou"d lead on the Van, as at _Vigo_; Where such Lives and Estates Are expos"d for our sakes, _Then where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
"Twas the whole Nation"s Voice, And we all did rejoyce, When we heard he Commanded for _Vigo_; To ANNA so True, All her Foes to pursue, _Then where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
"Tis the Voice of the Town, And our Zeal for the Crown, To serve ORMOND to _France_, _Spain_, or _Vigo_; So n.o.ble and brave, Both to Conquer and save, _Then where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
To the Soldiers so kind, And so humbly inclin"d, To wave his Applause gain"d at _Vigo_; Yet so kind and so true, He gave all Men their due, _Then where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
We justly do own, All the Honour that"s won, In _Flanders_, as well as at _Vigo_; But our Subject and Theme, Is of ORMOND"s great Name, _And where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
Then take off the Bowl, To that Generous Soul, That Commanded so bravely at _Vigo_; And may ANNA approve, Of our Duty and Love, _And where he goes, may you go, and I go_.
_A Cure for Melancholy._
[Music]
Are you grown so Melancholy, That you think on nought but Folly; Are you sad, Are you Mad, Are you worse; Do you think, Want of c.h.i.n.k Is a Curse: Do you wish for to have, Longer Life, or a Grave, _Thus would I Cure ye_.
First I would have a Bag of Gold, That should ten Thousand Pieces hold, And all that, In thy Hat, Would I pour; For to spend, On thy Friend, Or thy Wh.o.r.e: For to cast away at Dice, Or to shift you of your Lice, _Thus would I Cure ye_.
Next I would have a soft Bed made, Wherein a Virgin should be laid; That would Play, Any way You"ll devise; That would stick Like a Tick, To your Thighs, That would bill like a Dove, Lye beneath or above, _Thus would I Cure ye_.
Next that same Bowl, where _Jove_ Divine, Drank _Nectar_ in, I"d fill with Wine; That whereas, You should pause, You should quaff; Like a _Greek_, Till your Cheek, To _Ceres_ and to _Venus_, To _Bacchus_ and _Silenus_, _Thus would I Cure ye_.
Last of all there should appear, Seven Eunuchs sphere-like Singing here, In the Praise, Of those Ways, Of delights; _Venus_ can, Use with Man, In the Night; When he strives to adorn, _Vulcan"s_ Head with a HORN, _Thus would I Cure ye_.
But if not Gold, nor Woman can, Nor Wine, nor Songs, make merry then; Let the Batt, Be thy Mate, And the Owl; Let a Pain, In thy Brain, Make thee Howl; Let the Pox be thy Friend, And the Plague work thy end, _Thus I would Cure you_.
_To his fairest_ VALENTINE _Mrs._ A.L.
[Music]
Come pretty Birds present your Lays, And learn to chaunt a G.o.ddess Praise; Ye Wood-Nymphs let your Voices be, Employ"d to serve her Deity: And warble forth, ye Virgins Nine, _Some Musick to my_ Valentine.
Her Bosom is Loves Paradise, There is no Heav"n but in her Eyes; She"s chaster than the Turtle-Dove, And fairer than the Queen of Love; Yea, all Perfections do combine, To beautifie my Valentine.
She"s Nature"s choicest Cabinet, Where Honour, Beauty, Worth and Wit, Are all united in her Breast, The Graces claim an Interest: All Vertues that are most Divine, Shine clearest in my Valentine.
_A_ BALLAD,
_Or_, COLLIN"S _Adventure._
[Music]
As _Collin_ went from his Sheep to unfold, In a Morning of _April_, as grey as "twas cold, In a Thicket he heard a Voice it self spread; Which was, O, O, _I am almost dead_.
He peep"d in the Bushes, and spy"d where there lay His Mistress, whose Countenance made _April May_; But in her looks some sadness was read, Crying O, O, _I am almost dead_.
He rush"d in to her, and cry"d what"s the matter, Ah! _Collin_, quoth she, why will you come at her, Who by the false Swain, hath often been misled, For which O, O, _I am almost dead_.
He turn"d her Milk-pail, and there down he sat, His Hands stroak"d his Beard, on his Knee lay his Coat, But, O, still _Mopsa_ cry"d, before ought was said, _Collin_, O, O, _I am almost dead_.
No more, quoth stout _Collin_! I ever was true, Thou gav"st me a Handkerchief all hemm"d with Blue: A Pin-box I gave thee, and a Girdle so Red, Yet still she cry"d, O, O, _I am almost dead_.
Delaying, quoth she, hath made me thus Ill, For I never fear"d _Sarah_ that dwelt at the Mill, Since in the Ev"ning late her Hogs thou hast fed, For which, O, O, _I am almost dead_.
_Collin_ then chuck"d her under the Chin, Cheer up for to love thee I never will lin, Says she, I"ll believe it when the Parson has read, "Till then, O, O, _I am almost dead_.
Uds boars, quoth _Collin_, I"ll new my shon, And e"er the Week pa.s.s, by the Ma.s.s it shall be done: You might have done this before, then she said, But now, O, O, _I am almost dead_.
He gave her a twitch that quite turn"d her round, And said, I"m the truest that e"er trod on Ground, Come settle thy Milk-Pail fast on thy Head, No more O, O, _I am almost dead_.
Why then I perceive thoul"t not leave me in the Lurch, I"ll don my best Cloths and streight to the Church: Jog on, merry _Collin_, jog on before, For I Faith, I Faith, _I"ll dye no more_.
_The_ Town-Rakes, _A_ SONG: _Set by Mr._ Daniel Purcell: _Sung by Mr._ EDWARDS.