A COLLECTION Of Twenty Four SONGS, Written by several Hands. And set by several Masters of Music. With the Tunes Engraven on Copper-plates, with great Care. Most of them within the Compass of a Flute. LONDON, Printed by F. Leach, for Charles Corbet, and Published by W. Davis, in Amen-Corner; and are to be sold by most Booksellers, and Musick-shops. M DC LXXXV. Price One Shilling. I. FLy from Olinda, young and fair, Fly from her soft engaging air And Wit in Women, found so rare. Though all her looks to Love advise, Her yet unconquered Heart denies, And breaks the Promise of her Eyes. II. Waste not your time in coy disdain; Think not your Beauty's pleasing Reign By way of Rigour to maintain. If we to King's obedience own, If we to Gods with Incense go, 'Tis sor the Blessings they bestow. I. COuld my Aminta prove Half so kind as she is cruel, Ah could she once but Love For an hour or two like me, All the torments I endured She will by one Smile Repay, And my wounded Heart will cure Should the Joys a moment stay. II. See, see, you mighty Powers What a Heart you have wounded See how it Bleeds in showers From the Wounds your Darts have made. Since that neither Prayers nor Tears Can her Heart with Pity move, Then my Dagger ends my fears And my fatal stroke my Love. I. IF absent I from Phillis am, And judge my Merit by my Love, Straight I resolve to own my Flame, And hope I may successful prove. But when her Beauty I behold, And each surprising Charm admire, I think a Monarch were too bold If he did to her Love aspire. II. Then quite despairing of my Fate, I all amazed and silent stray, Nor dare, so much I dread my Fate, One sigh or tender look betray. Thus some who most your Alms deserve, Ashamed to beg, unpitied starve, Whilst oft with false and Clamorous Grief, The saucy Beggar gets Relief. I. AS May in all her youthful dress, My Love so gay did once appear, A Spring of Charms dwelled on her Face, And Roses did inhabit there. Thus whilst our Joyment was but young, Each night new Pleasures did Create, Harmonious words dropped from her Tongue, And Cupid on her Forehead sat. II. But as the Sun to West declines The Eastern Sky does colder grow, And all its blushing looks resigns To''th' pale-faced Moon that rules below. Whilst Love was eager, brisk and warm, My Cloe then was kind and gay, But when by Time I lost the Charms, Her Smiles, like Autumn, dropped away. I. WHen Lucinda's blooming Beauty Did the wondering Town surprise, With the first I paid my Duty, Fixing there my wand'ring Eyes: Her kind Spring each hour discloses Charms we not where else can trace. Gayer than the blush on Roses Are the Glories of her Face. II. She's alone the life of Pleasure, Makes the Park, and makes the Play; Scattering her amazing Treasure, Gives her Slaves a Golden Day. You whose thoughts are too aspiring, Hope not she will ease your care, I have learned to live admiring, Love is vanquished by Despair. I. GO tell Aminta, gentle Swain, I would not die, nor dare complain, Thy Tuneful Voice with numbers join, Thy Voice will more prevail than mine: For Souls oppressed, and dumb with grief, The Gods ordained this kind Relief. That Music should in sounds convey What Dying Lovers dare not say. II. A Sigh or Tear perhaps she'll give, But Love on Pity cannot live. Tell her that Hearts for Hearts were made, And Love with Love is only paid. Tell her my Pains so fast increase That soon they will be past Redress. For O the Wretch that Speechless lies Attends but Death to close his Eyes. I. AHfaithless Silvia come tell me Why so cruel grown, So to undo me, and kill me, Who once was your own. When that I wooed thee, and sued thee, How hard was my fate, So to enslave me, then leave me, To cry 'tis too late. II. When thy poor Shepherd distressed, Went wandering on the Plain, Think how his Soul was oppressed With Silvia's disdain. Each flying moment fresh thoughts, And new troubles to me does create, Since to regain the least Treasures and Pleasures, Alas 'tis too late. I. INever saw the Face till now That could my Passion move, I liked and ventured ev'ry Vow, But durst not think on Love. Till Beauty charming ev'ry sense An easy Conquest made, And showed the vainness of defence, Where Phillis does invade. II. But O how her colder Heart denies The thoughts her looks inspire, And whilst in Ice that frozen lies, Her Eyes dart only Fire. Between extrams I am undone, Like Plants too Northern set, Burnt by too violent a Sun, And chilled for want of heat. I. YOu I love, by Jove I do, More than all things here below, With a Passion far more great Than e'er Creature Loved yet, And yet still you cry forbear, Love no more, or Love not here. II. Bid the Miser leave his Ore, Bid the wretched sigh no more, Bid the old be young again, Bid thee now ne'er think on man. Silvia this when you can do, Bid me then ne'er think on you. III. Love's not a thing of Choice but Fate, That makes me Love, makes you to Hate: Silvia then do what you will, Ease or cure, torment or kill; Be kind or cruel, false or true, Love I must, and none but you. I. IN Silvia is my whole delight, There is no other she, When absent none can please my sight, Your Image still I see. The Turkey parts with his fond mate Not half so loath as I, I softly sigh to my hard fate, If absent long, I die. II. Each moment seems an age to me, I hope 'tis so to you, The Slave longs less for Liberty, Than I to find you true. Silvia return then to my Arms, For I am all desire, Were I to you so full of Charms, Our Flamse could not expire. Olinda's Answer. I. AH poor Olinda never boast Of Charms that thy freedom crossed, They throw at Hearts and thine is lost. Yet none my ruin ought to blame, His Wit first blew me to a flame, Then fans me with the Wings of Fame. II. In vain I do his person shun, I cannot from his Glory run, That's universal as the Sun: In Crowds in Praises fill my Ear, Alone his genius does appear, He like a God is every where. HAil to the Mighty Monarch, Valiant Pole, Of Victory the Soul: The first great Conqueror, In a Holy War, The bright Auspicious Northern Star. To Staremburg the Bold and all his Train, To the generous Lorraine, That has Valiant Men at his Command As e'er the mighty Bully had that stole his Land. For 'twas he, 'twas he, that Christian Turk. That has set 'em all to work; And now lies upon the Lurk, In hopes a mighty Name to gain, But his hopes may prove in vain. For the Pole with his Jove assisting Hand Thundered all out of the Land, By a Word of his Command, Both Trimmer, Whig and Jew, And all that Christian Peace Subdue. SEE how fair Clorinda lies, Kindly calling with her Eyes, In the tender moment prove her, Shepherd why so dull a Lover, Prithee why so dull a Lover. In her Blushes see your shame, Angry they with Love complain You too coldly entertain her. Lay your Pipe a little by, If no other Charms you try, You will never gain her. Whilst the happy minute is, Court her, you may get a kiss, May be favours that are greater. Leave your Piping, to her fly, When the Nymph you love is nigh, Is't with a Tune you treat her. Dull Amintas fie, O fie, Now your Shepherdess is nigh, Can you pass your time no better. Can you pass your time no better. I. Angel's may be very fair, But Bellinda is a Creature Bright as any Angels are, To the praise of humane nature. Hopes than are no friends of mine, That leads me on to my disdain, Nor eyes that makes a Heart, Where adoration is in vain. II. Where we hate, they hate us too, And must Love go unregarded, Or if Love to Love be due, Why is mine no more rewarded; Better to that I Heaven fly Where Joys are treated in extremes, Then at this hopeless distance ley, Where pleasures only is a dream. OLd Chiron thus Preached To his Pupil Achilles, I'll tell you, I'll tell you, young Gentleman, What the Fates will is; You my Boy must go, You my Boy must go, Must go, must go, The Gods will have it so, To the Siege of Troy, Thence never to return, thence never to return, Never to return, never to return, To Greece again, But before those Walls to be slain, But before those Walls to be slain, But before those Walls to be slain. Let not your noble Courage be cast down, Let not your noble Courage be cast down, Let not your noble Courage, Let not your noble Courage be cast down, But all the while you lie before the Town, Drink all the while, Drink all the while you lie before the Town, Drink and drive Care away, Drink and be merry, You'll ne'er go the sooner, You'll ne'er go the sooner, You'll ne'er go the sooner, To the Stygian Ferry. I. PRetty Flaramell No Tongue can ever tell The Charms that in thee dwell: Those Soul melting Pleasures, Should the mighty Jove once view, He'd fall in Love, And plunder all above, To R●●● down his Treasure. Ah cried the Nymph in the Shepherd's Arms, Had you half so much Love as you say I have Charms. Here's not a Soul created for Man or Love, More true than Flaramell will prove; I'll o'er the World with thee Rove. II. Love that struly free, Had never, 〈◊〉 sie, But Artful Love may be, Both Do●●ful and Roving. Ah dear Shepherdess ne'er doubt. What I express, My Life shall prove no lo●● Then ever endless Loving. Then like the Sun quoth the Nymph thou'lt he, And I like the kind Earth will produce all to thee. Of every Flower in Love's Garden a Tribute I will pay To my Saint: nay then pray Take not those dear Eyes away. A Scotch Song. BY shady Woods and purling Streams, I spent my Life in pleasing Dreams, And would not for the World be brought, To change my safe delightful Thought. For who alas can happy be, That doth the truth of all things see. For who alas can happy be, That doth the truth of all things see. Endeavour then for to persuade, That by her Charms I am betrayed, I'm not in pain if it be so, All that I beg is I may know. For 'tis a truth may be believed, That more or less we are all deceived. For 'tis a truth may be believed, That more or less we are all deceived. A Song, IWill Love I know not who, But when that I do know it; I'll not fail to tell her so, Nor will I fear to show it. He that Loves and dares not speak, Is but a Fop in Fashion; And must love a Nymph that's weak, Or ne'er will find Compassion. If I meet with one I Love, I'll lose no time in Sporting, While the Fop his Fame doth prove, By way of Silent Courting. Women seem fond of such Fools, Because they'll Fetch and Carry; And they know them proper Tools, When one thing's Lost they Marry. A Song, to the Tune of, Hail to the Mighty Monarch. TEckeley that Perkin Prince of War, That has kept so great a stir, Deluded by a Renegado fate, Now with his injured Monarch will capitulate. Policy and Treason ne'er agree, There's no hopes of Remedy, Since injured Clemency is so much abused, All show of shame Repentance ought to be refused. For the Pole with the Rebleses scorns to treat, Nor can Mahomet the Great Hinder Teckeley's defeat, Nor all the Pride that the faction draws, Can oppose our Royal cause, Whilst the Bold resulters strive in vai●, Sobiesque and Lorraine, Will all Hungary gain, Should the new Conquest still pursue, Then Monsieur gardevow. A Song, to the Tune of, Ah Faithless Silpia. AH partial Cupid thy unequal measures give o'er, And let me love less, or let my Sepida love more. Can she except me, or ba●ish me quite out of sight, 'twould ' cover or else kill at once all my hopes of delight, So bright, as if in spite she was made the Mistress of my fate. She reigns, and disdains, whilst in Chains, Whilst in Chains, her triamph I wait. IF I live to be old, as I find I go down, Let this be my fate in a Country Town. Let me have a warm House with a Stone at my Gate, And a Cleanly young Girl to rub my bald Pate. May I govern my Passion with an absolute sway, And grow wiser and better as my Strength wears away, Without Gout or Stone by a grntle decay, By a gen— gentle decay. In a Country Town by a murmuring Brook, And the Ocean at distance whereon I may look; With a spacious Plain without Hedge or Style, With an easy Pad Nag to ride out a Mile. May I govern my Passion, etc. With Plutarch and Horace, and one or two more, Of the best Wits that lived in the ages before; With a Dish of Roast Mutton, not Venison nor Veal, And clean (though course) Linen at every meal. May I govern my Passion, etc. With a Pudding on Sundays and Stout humning Liquor, With a Remnant of Latin to puzzle the Vicar, With a hidden ●eserve of Burgundy Wine, To drink the King's Health as oft as we Dine. May I govern my Passion, etc. With a Courage undaunted may I pass my last days, And when I am Dead, may the better sort say, In the Morning when sober, in the Evening when mellow. He's gone and has left not behind him his fellow. May I govern my Passion, etc. A Song, t●●he Tune of, I never saw the Face till now. BEneath the shady Willow lay A Nymph more Charming bright, Than e'er made happy blushing day, Or●hone to adorn the night: A thousand Cupids fluttered round A bout the place she lay, Wondering to see upon the ground A Nymph so bright and gay. The air her face did gently blow, And all her Charms appeared, And not a God that saw her so, But what the Nympli revered. Soft swelling Breasts, than Swans more fair, Rising with gentle heat, Beyond Poetical compare, Beauty's immortal seat, A thousand curls did her bedeck, More black than Ravensare, Which wanton round her snowy Neck, To adorn the whitenoss there. Her Garments ruffled with the wind, About her gently pl●id, And a whole World of Beauty there, To the open air displayed. At which the sleepy Nymph began To 〈◊〉 her drow sie h●●d, 〈◊〉 she had been seen by man, In haste she blushing fled, But as she ran, she took a slip, Which much increased her dread, And when she strove to rise, by a slip She lost her Maidenhead. FINIS.