! I know that by wits 'tis recited, The school-boy's defire is a play-day; Will-o'-wifp leads the traveller a gadding But no light can fet me a madding, For guineas in other mens breeches The heart, when half wounded, is changing, Who follows all ladies of pleasure, I feel I'm in love to diftraction, My senses all loft in a fog; A letter when I am inditing, Of nothing but sweet Molly Mog. If I would not give up the three Graces, Those faces want nature and fpirit, Those who toast all the family royal Were Virgil alive with his Phillis, When When she smiles on each guest, like her liquor, Then jealousy fets me agog; To be fure fhe's a bit for the vicar, * A New Song of New Similies. MY Y paffion is as mustard strong; I fit all fober fad, Drunk as a piper all day long, Or like a March hare mad. Round as a hoop the bumpers flow; Pert as a pear-monger I'd be, Like a stuck pig I gaping ftare, And eye her o'er and o'er; Lean as a rake with fighs and care, Sleek as a moufe before. Plump Plump as partridge was I known, I melancholy as a cat Am kept awake to weep; Hard is her heart as flint or ftone; The God of love at her approach Hearts found as any bell or roach Ay me! as thick hops or hail, The fine men crowd about her: But foon as dead as a door-nail Strait as my leg her shape appears; My heart would be fcot-free from cares, As As fine as five-pence is her mien; As foft as pap her kisses are ; As fmooth as glafs, as white as curds, Her wit like pepper bites. Brifk as a body-loufe fhe trips, Full as an egg was I with glee, Good lord! how all men envy'd me! But falfe as hell, fhe, like the wind, Chang'd, as her fex must do; Though feeming as the turtle kind, And like the gospel true. |