Shall join to make a garland, meet Ah gramachree! and we shall be Full many a scene of mourning I laid me down upon my bed, Ah gramachree! but now I'll be, You faid you lov'd your Molly dear, For well I knew my Strephon's heart Our flocks together now we'll tend, And gaze, enraptur'd, on the sweets Which yon fair profpects fill; While heav'n upon our mutual love Shall all its bleffings pour; Ah Gramachree! we then fhall be CCXCIX. SONG TRUST NOT MAN, Allegretto. RUST not man, for he'll deceive you, First he'll court you, then he'll leave you, Listen to a kind adviser ; Men purfue but to perplex: Would you happy be, grow wifer, And avoid the faithlefs fex. Form'd by nature to undo us So the bird, whene'er deluded Mourns out life, in cage fecluded, Fair ones, while you're young, beware! W HILE milking my cow in a fine colour'd paile, Young Damon came to me and told a sweet tale! Such flattering words he fo artfully us'd, That reafon inform'd me that truth was abus'd. That reafon inform'd me that truth was abus'd. Yet praises are pleafing to most of the fair, And I was attentive to hear him declare, The milk in my pail, and the ev'ning's rich fkies, Were emblems but faint of my neck, cheeks, and eyes. Such aftonishing fimiles made me amaz'd, The beauties he spoke of in him you will find, And live quite as happy as Kings, Dukes, or Lords. SONG CCCI. MY SWEET PRETTY MOG. Sung in the Regifter Office. MY Poor Paddy have fmitten, poor Paddy have fmitten. Far fofter than filk, and as fair as new milk, Your lily white hand is, your lily white hand is ; Your lips red as cherries, and your curling hair, is When drefs'd in your boddice, you trip like a goddess, A kifs on your cheek ('tis so soft and fo fleek) I Would warm me like whisky, would warm me like whisky. grunt, and I pine, and I fob like a swine, because you're fo cruel, because you're so cruel; No reft I can take, and, afleep or awake, I dream of my jewel, I dream of my jewel. Your hate, then, give over, nor Paddy your lover So cruelly handle, fo cruelly handle; Or Paddy muft die, like a pig in a fty, SONG CCCII. WHEN SUMMER COMES, &c. HEN fummer comes, the fwains on Tweed, W Sing their successful loves; Around the ewes and lambkins feed, But my lov'd fong is then the broom, For, fure, fo foft, so sweet a bloom, O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom, There Colin tun'd his oaten reed, Of Leader's haughs and Leader's fide, O the broom, &c. gay, Not Tiviot's braes, fo green and O the broom, &c. Tune,-In Infancy, &c. Written at the request of a Lady. IF you can tell, ye mufes, fay, Where dwells the lovely maid In vain I search the groves around, Among the woods she is not found, W HEN firft the eaft begins to dawn, The lark refumes her mattins sweet, In yonder tree two turtles bill, Whofe fweet alternate notes, Ꮓ |