A

COLLECTION

OF

NEW SONGS, &c.

SONG I.

Sung by Miss BRENT and Mr. Lowe at Vauxhall, The Words and Mufic by Dr. ARNE.

C

DAMON.

OME, my Laura, heav'nly Maid,
To this cool refreshing Shade,

Where the Vi'let, Pink, and Rose,
All their blooming Sweets difclofe ;
See the Nymphs and Swains are met,
Happy in the cool Retreat ;

Hail to Mirth, and amorous Play,
This is Shepherd's Holiday.

LAURA.

Wander then, ye giddy Flocks,

Oe'r the Hill, or 'mongst the Rocks ;

B

From

From her Shepherd, Night or Day,
Laurá never means to ftray.
Come, begin, ye fportive Throng,
Tune the Pipe and raise the Song,
Celebrate, without delay

This our Shepherd's Holiday.

DAMO N.

Sound, the rattling Tabor, found,
Laura's Health go round;

Let my

Kinder fhe than vernal Show'rs,
Sweeter far than May-born Flowers.
Dimpled Smiles and heav'nly Truth,
Join t'adorn her blooming Youth;
Thefe foft Charms without Allay,
Crown the Shepherd's Holiday.
LAURA.

Happy Laura! oh how bleft,
Thus of Damon's Love poffeff'd:
Witnefs Hill, and Dale, and Grove,
Here I plight eternal love.

Wou'd the Gods on me bestow
Power to lighten human Woe,
Damon's Life fhould glide away,
Like a Shepherd's Holiday.

SONG HI.

Sung by Mifs BRENT, in the Jovial Crew.
Set by Dr. ARNE.

WOW fweet is the Ev'ning Air,
When the Laffes all prepare,

So trim and fo clean,

To trip it o'er the Green,

And meet with their Sweethearts there :

While the pale Town Lafs,
Difguifes her Face,

To fqueak at a Masquerade;
Where the proudeft Prude
May be fubdu'd,

And when the cries, you're rude,
You may conclude,
She will not die a Maid.

Α

SONG III.

Sung by Mifs BRENT in the Jovial Crew.
Set by Dr. ARNE.

T Night, by Moon Light on the Plain,
With Rapture, how I've seen,

Attended by her harmless Train,

The little Fairy Queen;

Her midnight Revels fweetly keep,
While Mortals are involv'd in Sleep,
They trip it o'er the Green.

And when they danc'd their chearful Round,
The Morning would difclofe,
For where their nimble Feet do bound,
Each Flower unbidden grows;
The Daify (fair as Maids in May)
The Cowflip in his Gold Array,
And blushing violet Rose.

A 1

Sung by Mr. BEARD at Ranelagh.

S Colin rang'd early one Morning in Spring, To hear the Woods Chorifters warble and fing; Young Phæbe he faw fupinely was laid,

And thus in fweet Melody fung the fair Maid:

Of all my Experience how vaft the amount,
Since fifteen long Winters I fairly can count;
Was ever poor Damfel fo fadly betray'd,

To live to thefe Years, and yet ftill be a Maid?
Ye Heroes triumphant by Land and by Sea,
Sworn Votaries to Love, yet unmindful of me.;
Of Prowess approv'd, of no Dangers afraid,
Will you ftand by like Daftards, and fee me a maid?
Ye Counsellors fage, who with eloquent Tongue,
Can do what you pleafe, both right and with wrong;
Can it be by Law or by Equity faid,

That a comely young Girl ought to die an old maid ?
Ye learned Phyficians, whofe excellent Skill,
Can fave or demolish, can heal or can kill ;

To a poor forlorn Damfel contribute your Aid,
Who is fick, very fick of remaining a Maid.
Ye Fops I invoke not to lift to my Song,
Who anfwer no End, and to no Sex belong;
Ye Eccho of Eccho's, and Shadows of Shade,
For if I had you, I might still be a Maid.

Poor Colin was melted to hear her complain,
Then whisper'd Relief like a kind-hearted Swain;
And Phæbe well pleas'd, is no longer afraid
Of being neglected, and dying a Maid.

SONG V.

Sung by Mifs YOUNG, in the Character of Patience, in Henry the VIII.

Full of Mischief, full of Woe ;

All his Joys are mixt with Smart ;
Thorns beneath his Rofes blow:
Serpent-like, he ftings the Breaft
Where he's harbour'd and carefs'd.

SONG VI.

Sung by Mrs. CLIVE, in the Farce of High Life Below Stairs.

NOME here, fellow Servant, and listen to me, I'll fhew you how thofe of fuperior Degree Are only Dependants, no better than we.

CHORUS.

Both high and low in this do agree,
'Tis here, fellow Servant,

And there fellow Servant,
And all in a Livery.

See yonder fine Spark in Embroidery drest,
Who bows to the great, and if they smile is bleft:
What's he? I'faith but a Servant at best.

Both high and low in this do agree, &c.

Nature made all alike, no Diftin&tion she craves,
So we laugh at the great World, its Fools and its
Knaves;

For we are all Servants, but they are all Slaves.

Both high and low in this do agree, &c. The fat fhining Glutton looks up to the Shelf, And wrinkled lean Mifer bows down to his Pelf; And the curl-pated Beau is a Slave to himself.

Both high and low in this do agree, &c. The gay fparkling Belle, who the whole Town. alarms,

And with Eyes, Lips and Neck fets the Smarts all in Arms,

Is a Vassal herself, a mere Drudge to her Charms. Both high and low this do agree, &c. B 3

Then