Through diftant climates I must rove,
Since Jeany fhe has left me.

Ye pow'rs above, I to your care
Give up my charming lovely fair;
Your choiceft bleffings be her fhare,
Tho' fhe's for ever left me.

SONG

CXXVI.

PINKY HOUSE.

BY Pinky-houfe oft let me walk,

While circled in my arms,

I hear my Nelly fweetly talk,
And gaze o'er all her charms.
O let me ever fond behold

Thofe graces void of art!
Those chearful fmiles that sweetly hold
In willing chains my heart.

O come, my love! and bring anew,
That gentle turn of mind;
That gracefulness of air, in you,
By nature's hand defign'd:
That beauty, like the blufhing rofe,
Firft lighted up this flame;
Which, like the fun, for ever glows
Within my breaft the fame!

Ye light coquets! ye airy things!
How vain is all your art!
How feldom it a lover brings!
How rarely keeps a heart!
O! gather from my Nelly's charms,
That fweet, that graceful eafe;
That blushing modesty that warms;
That native art to please.

Come then, my love! O come along!

and feed me with thy charms; Come, fair infpirer of my song, O fill my longing arms!

A flame like mine can never die,
While charms, fo bright as thine,
So heav'nly fair, both please the eye,
and fill the foul divine!

W

HEN trees did bud, and fields were green,
And broom bloom'd fair to see ;

When Mary was complete fifteen,

And love laugh'd in her eye; Blithe Davy's blinks her heart did move To fpeak her mind thus free; "Gang down the burn, Davy love, "And I will follow thee."

Now Davy did each lad surpass
That dwelt on this burn-fide;
And Mary was the bonniest lass,
Juft meet to be a bride.

Blithe Davy's blinks, &c.

Her cheeks were rofy, red and white,
Her een were bonny blue,
Her looks were like Aurora bright,
Her lips like dropping dew.

Blithe Davy's blinks, &c.

What pafs'd, I guess, was harmless play,
And nothing, fure, unmeet!
For, ganging hame, I heard them fay,
They lik'd a walk fo fweet;

Blithe Davy's blinks, &c.

His cheek to hers he fondly laid;

She cry'd, "Sweet love be true; "And when a wife, as now a maid, "To death I'll follow you." Blithe Davy's blinks, &c.

As fate had dealt with him in routh,
Strait to the kirk he led her;
There plighted her his faith and truth,
And a bonny bride he made her.
No more afham'd to own her love,
Or fpeak her mind thus free;
"Gang down the burn, Davy love,
"And I will follow thee."

SONG

CXXVIII.

**

A MAN TO MY MIND.

INCE wedlock's in vogue, and ftale virgins defpis'd,
Call Watchelors, greeting, thefe lines are premis'd;

I'm a maid that would marry-oh! could I but find,
I care not for fortune-a man to my mind.

A man to my mind,

A man to my mind,

I care not for fortune-a man to my mind.

Not the fair feather'd fop, fond of fashion and dress ? Nor the 'fquire, that can relish no joys but the chace; Not the free thinking rake, whom no mortals can bind; Neither this, that, nor t'other's the man to my mind.

Not the ruddy-fac'd fot, who tops world without end; Not the drone, that can't relish his bottle and friend; Not the fool, that's too fond; nor the churl, that's unkind;

Neither this, &c.

Not the rich with full bags, without breeding or merit; Not the flush, that's all fury, without any spirit;

Not the fine Mr Fribble, the fcorn of mankind;
Neither this, &c.

But the youth, whom good fenfe and good nature infpire, Whom the brave must esteem, and the fair should admire : In whofe heart love and truth are with honour con

join'd,

This, this, and no other's the man to my mind.

SONG

CXXIX.

THE JOYS OF HARVEST.

OW pleasure unbounded refounds o'er the plains,

As they follow the last team of harvest along,
And end all their toils with a dance and a fong:
Poffefs'd of the plenty that bleffes the year,
Bleak winter's approach they behold without fear,
And when tempefts rattle and hurricanes roar,
Enjoy what they have, and ne'er languish for more.

Dear Chloe, from them let us learn to be wife,
And ufe every moment of life as it flies ;

Gay youth is the fpring-time which all muft improve,
For fummer to ripen an harveft of love;

Our hearts then a provident care fhould engage,
To lay friendship in ftore for the winter of age,
Whofe frowns fhall difarm ev'n Chloe's bright eye,
Damp the flame in my bofom, and pall ev'ry joy.

SONG CXXX.

IN PRAISE OF CLARET.

IN fpite of love, at length I've found atal leafe e,

K

Her humour free and unconfin'd,
Both night and day she'll ease me.
No jealous thoughts disturb my mind,
Tho' fhe's enjoy'd by all mankind;
Then drink and never spare it,
'Tis a bottle of good claret.

If you through all her naked charms,
Her little mouth discover,

Then take her blushing to your arms,
And ufe her like a lover;

Such liquor fhe'll distil from thence,
As will tranfport your ravish'd fenfe ;
Then kifs and never spare it,
'Tis a bottle of good claret.

But beft of all, fhe has no tongue,
Submiffive she obeys me,
She's fully better old than young,
And ftill to fmiling fways me;
Her fkin is fmooth, complexion black,
And has a moft delicious fmack;
Then kifs and never spare it,
'Tis a bottle of good claret.

If

you her excellence would tafte,
Be fure you use her kind, fir,
Clafp your hands about her waift,
And raife her up behind, firs
As for her bottom, never doubt,
Push but home, and you'll find it out;
Then drink and never spare it,
'Tis a bottle of good claret.

K

AVAV

CXXXI.

SONG

SIR JOHN MALCOM.

EEP

ye

weel frae Sir John Malcom, Igo and ago, If he's a wife man, I mistak him, iram coram dago,