being a collection of celebrated English, and Scotch songs

. Porbear.And. Are. On: StaresJ>Bleak Mountains and wild ftaring Rocks,the wretched Befult of mv Pains*The Twains greater Brutes then their flocks,.. And the iJynvphs as Eolite as the Twain s •Whattiio I have fkill to cnfhare.Where Imarts in Bright Circles abound.What tho at S^ James's at Prayers^Beaus ogle Devoutly around •Pond Virgin, thy Power is lost,a race of Bude Hottentot Brutes •What Glory in being the Toast, .Of noify dull fgulres in Boots ,And thou my Companion fo Dear,My all that is left of Relief/'What ever I fuffer forbear,to Difsuade me from Grief,'Tis in Vain then, youll fay. to refine.At Ills which^Cannot be redrefsll.But in forrows £o pungent as mine.To be Patient alafc.is a Test •If farther to footh my Diftrefs,Thy tender Companion is led.Call Jenny to help to Undrefs,Decently Put me to Bed,The last Humble folace I wait.Would Heaven indulge me the Boon,Some dream lefs unkind than my fate.In a "VTfion tranfport me to Town •Claxifsa mean time weds a Beau,Who Decks her irt Golden array.The finest at ev'ry fine fhowAnd flaunts it at Park and at Play •Whilst here we are left in the Lurch,Porgot; and Secluded from View,Church,Unlefs when fome Bumkin atwishfully over the Pew •Flute