He. SWEE A Dialogue. WEET Nelly, my heart's delight, The offer I make, For modefty's fake, I honour your beauty bright; I can do no lefs, Your modefty, And fancy me, She. No, I am a lady gay, 'Tis very well known I may In city or town: Court Bridget or Sue, Kate, Nancy, or Prue, Their loves may foon be won; But don't you dare To speak me fair, As if I were At my laft prayer, To marry a farmer's fon. 13 He. He. My father has riches store, 2 For their labour and pain, They don't to harlots run, I never knew A city beau That cou'd out-do A country farmer's fon. She. Be not in fuch hafte, quoth she, I was but in jeft; Come pr'ythee fit down by me; For thou art the man That verily can Perform what must be done; Both ftrait and tall, Genteel withal, Therefore I fhall Be at your call, And I'll marry the farmer's fon As s foon as the chaos was made into form, And the first race of men knew a good from a They quickly did join in acknowledge divine, (harm; That the world's chiefeft bleffings were women and Since when by example improving delights, (wine. Time governs our days, love and beauty our nights: Love on then, and drink, 'Tis a folly to think Of a mystery out of our reaches: Be moral in thought; To be merry's no fault, Tho' an elder the contrary preaches; For never, my friends, was an age of more vice, Than when knaves wou'd feem pious, and fools wou'd (feem wife. L ET us dance, let us fing, Whilft our life's in the spring, And give all to the great god of love; Let us revel and play, And rejoice whilst we may, Since old time these delights will remove. 菠菠 Cu F CUPID turn'd Tinker. AIR Venus, they say, On a rainy bleak day, Thus fent her child Cupid a packing: Get thee gone from my door, Like a fon of a whore, And elsewhere ftand bouncing and cracking. To tell the plain truth, Our little blind youth Beat the hoof a long while up and down, fir, Till, all dangers past, By good fortune, at last He stumbled into a great town, fir. Then straight to himself Crys this tiny fly elf, Since begging brings little relief, sir, A trade I'll commence That fhall bring in the pence; And straight he fet up for a thief, fir. At play-house and kirk, Where he flily did lurk, He ftole hearts both from young and old people, Till at last, fays my fong, He had like to have swung On a gallows as high as a steeple. Then |