CHOICE NEW SONGS Never before Printed. SET TO SEVERAL NEW TUNES BY THE BEST Masters of MUSIC. Written by THO. D'URFEY, Gent. LONDON, Printed by john Playford, for joseph Hindmarsh (Bookseller to His ROYAL HIGHNESS) at the Black Bull in Cornhill, 1684. DISSEMBLED LOVE: A Song set by Mr. Abel. WHen Damon does his Pas— sion show, dissembling I despise; yet tho' a Frown sits on my Brow, I languish with my Eyes: When e'er he does his Tale begin, and I would seem most coy; my poor Heart pants to let him in, all— tho' my Tongue de— ny, all— tho' my Tongue de— nigh. II. Against Honour, the Tyrant of our Souls, And Love, the greater Foe; Some God that o'er my Fate controls, Inspire me what to do: For long if Love invade my Heart, From Honour I must fly; And if my Honour Love subvert, 'Twill soon my Life destroy. A LEVET to the ARTILLERY: A Song made upon His Royal Highness' leading the Artillery-Company through the City; Set to an excellent Minuet of Monsieur Grabue's. ALL Loy— all Hearts, take off your Brimmers, bow down ye Cuckold's, Whigs, and Trimmers; sneak in your Shops, and go crouch to your Wives, keep in your No— says, for fear of your Lives: Great York like God Mars rides through the Ci— tie, and leads on the Brave, and the Witty; ye Rogues, truckle down; 'tis not your Branches can succour your Haunches, if 'tis not your Horns can see— cure from his Arms, if you once you are known. chance to be known. The HORSE-RACE; a Song made and sung to the King at Newmarket: Set to an excellent Scotch Tune, called, Cock up thy Beaver, in four Strains. TO Horse, brave Boys of New— mar— ket, to Horse, you'll lose the Match by lon— her de— lay— ing; the Gelding just now was led o— ver the Course, I think the De— vil's in you for stay—ing: Run, and en— dea— vour all to bub— ble the Sporters, Bets may reco— ver all lost at the Groom-Porters. Folly— low, fol— low, fol— low, fol— low, come down to the Ditch, take the odds, and then you'll be rich; for I'll have the brown Bay, if the blue Bonnet ride, and hold a thousand Pounds of his side Sir: Dragon would scour it, but Dragon grows old; he can— not en— dure it, he cannot, he wonot now run it, as late— lie he could: Age, Age, does hinder the Speed Sir. Now, now, now they come on, and see, see the Horse lead the way still; three lengths be— fore at the turning the Lands, five hundred Pounds up— on the brown Bay still: Pox on the De— vil, I fear we have lost, for the Dog, the Blue Bonnet, has run it, a Plague light up— on it, the wrong side the Post; Odszounds, was e— ver such Fortune. To CYNTHIA; a Song set by Mr. King. EN— a— mourned Angels leave the Sky, to hear the Music of her Tongue; fond Cupid's round a— 'bout her fly, to kiss her as she walks along: The Trees all bow their verdant Heads, like humble Lo— vers when she talks; and blushing Flowers deck the Meads, as proud they may adorn her Walks. II. She has such Beauty as were fit To bless the greatest Monarch's side; A Mine of rich obliging Wit, Without the least allay of Pride. Tell me no more of Joys above, With which immortal Souls are crowned; There is a Rapture in her Love, Which zealous Bigots never found. A SONG made to an excellent Tune of Mr. Peasable's. SUch a damned Fa— tigue Fools do make of wooing, that the Plea— sure got is seldom worth the pains; Men of deep Intrigue with e— ter— nal Cooing, by their mighty Passions show their little Brains: See a Fop there cringing, making ug— lie Fa— ces, hear him swear, No Joy like Syl— via's soft Em— bram— ces; vow a thousand Graccho— ces, crowns her as she pass— ses, die by her Eyes, and all con-foun-ded Lies. II. All the charming Nymphs Experience teach ye, Blunt and honest Lovers ever prove the best; Prating noisy Fops fain would overreach ye, And with gingling Nonsense hope to charm your Breast. eat the fulsome Tool when ere he comes before ye, Pity 'tis a Fool should triumph o'er ye: He will ne'er adore ye, Tho' he may implore ye; Vow and swear too, There's not a word on't true. The Law of Nature; a Song Pindaric-way to ASTREA, and sung to the King at Windsor: Made to an excellent new Tune of Mr. Akeroyds. WHilst their Flocks were feeding near the foot of a flowery Hill, Ce— lafoy— don complaining of his Fate, thus to A— stre— a cried: Hear my gen— tle Plea— ding; Ah! cru-el Nymph! for— bear to kill a Shepherd with Dis— deign and Hate, whom you have once en— joyed! There is a Sa— cred Power in Love is beyond all Mor— tall Rules; fol— low the Laws of Na— ture, for the Di— vine Credit— a— tor did produce, and for Hu— man use did Beau— tie choose, who deny themselves, are Fools. E—ve— ry Heart is paired a— 'bove, and Ingra— ti— tudes a Sin to all the Saints so hateful, she that is found in— grate— full, may too late, in a wret —ched state, knock at Heaven's Gate, but shall ne— ver en—ter in. II. Had our first-made Father, Lord of the whole Creation, Done such a Crime as could have damned us all, Trespassing on his Wife; jove no doubt had rather, When he the ill design had known, Have placed his Angel ere the Fall, Guarding the Tree of Life. But he that well knew Adam's Breast, Whom Nature learned to woe, Never intended damning, Nor had the Serpents shamming Edified; For the Bone of his Side, That was made his Bride, Taught him what he was to do. Nor was the Maker e'er possessed With Rage that he did enjoy; But the Reflection hated, What he with pains created, Should be thought Such a cowardly Sot, To be poorly caught In such a sneaking Lye. The WEDDING: A Dialogue between John and Jug, sung in the Cheats of Scapin by Mr. Reading and Mrs. Norris; Set by Mr. Farmer in two Parts. john. COme jug, my Honey, let's to bed, it is no Sin, sin we are wed; for when I am near thee, by desire, I burn like a— nigh Coal of Fire. jug. To quench thy Flames I'll soon a— 'gree, thou art the Sun, and I the Sea; all Night with— in my Arms shalt be, and rise each Morn' as fresh as he. CHORUS. COme on then, and couple to-ge-ther, come all, the Old and the Young, the Short and the COme on then, and couple to-ge-ther, come all, the Old and the Young, the Short and the Tall; The richer than Croesus', and poorer than Job, for 'tis Wedding and Bedding that Tall; The richer than Croesus', and poorer than Job, for 'tis Wedding and Bedding that People's the Globe. People's the Globe. II. john. My Heart and all's at thy Command; And tho' I've never a Foot of Land, Yet six fat Ewes, and one milch Cow, I think, my jug, is Wealth enough. jug. A Wheel, six Platters, and a Spoon, A Jacket edged with blue galoon; My Coat, my Smock is thine, and shall, And something under best of all. Chor. Come on then, etc. A Scotch SONG made to the Irish JIG, and sung to the King at Whitehall. LAte— lie as through the fair E—den— bo— rough, to view the gay Meadows as I was a gang—ing; joc— key and Mog— gy were walking and tall— king of Love and Re— li— gion, thus close— lie Ha— run— guing. Ne— ver, says Mog— gy, come near me, false joc— key, for thou art a Whig, and I vow to ab— hor thee; Ize be no Bride, nor will lig by my side, for no sneaking Re— bell shall lift a Leg o'er me. jockey. II. Fairest and Dearest, And to my Heart nearest, To live with thy Frowns I no longer am able; I am so loving, And thou art so moving, Each hair of thy Head ties me fast as a Cable: Thou hast that in thee Ize sure to win me, To jew, Turk, or Atheist, so much I adore thee; Nothing I'd shun That is under the Sun, So I have the pleasure to lift a Leg o'er thee. Moggy. III. Plotters and Traitors, And Associators, In every degree ●hou shalt swear to oppose 'em; Swimmers and Trimmers, The Nation's Redeemers, And for thy Reward thou shalt sleep in my Bosom: I had a Dad, Was a Royal brave Lad, And as true as the Sun to his Monarch before me; Moggy he cried, The same hour that he died, Let no sneaking Rebel ere lift a Leg o'er thee. jockey. IV. Adieu then, ye Crew then, Of Protestant Blue Men, No Faction his Moggy from jockey shall sever; Thou shalt at Court My Conversion report, I am not the first Whig by his Wife brought in favour: I'll never deal For the dull Commonweal, To fight for true Monarchy shall be my Glory; Lulled with thy Charms, Then I'll die in thy Arms, When I have the pleasure to lift a Leg o'er thee. The ENJOYMENT, or No, no, changed to Ay, ay. WHen the Kine had gi'— ven a Pale-full, and the Sheep came bleating home; Doll that knew it would be healthful, went a wall— king with young Tom: Hand in Hand Sir, o'er the Land Sir, as they wandered to and fro; Tom made jol— lie Love to Dol— lie, but was dashed with No, no, no; no, no, no; no, no, no. II. Faith, says Tom, the Time's so fitting, We shall never get the like; You can never stir from knitting, When I am digging in the Dyke: Now we are gone too▪ and alone too, No one by to see or know; Prithee Dolly, shall I, shall I? Still she answered, No, no, no; No, no, no; no, no, no. III. Fie upon you Men, cries Dolly, In what Snares you'd make us fall; You get nothing but the Folly, But I should get the Devil and all: Tom with Sobs, and some dry Bobs, Cried, You're a Fool to argue so; Come, come, shall I? Prithee Dolly! Still she answered, No, no, no, etc. IV. To the Tavern than he took her, Wine to Love's a Friend confessed; By the Hand he often shook her, And drunk Brimmers to the best: She grew warm, and thought no harm, Till after a brisk Pint or two; To what he said, the silly Jade Could hardly get out, No, no, no, etc. V. She swore he was the prettiest Fellow In the Country, or the Town; And began to be so mellow, On the Couch she laid her down; Tom to woe her then came to her, Thinking this the time to try; And something passed, so kind at last, The Note was changed to Ay, ay, ay; Ay, ay, ay; ay, ay, ay. VI Closely now were joined their Faces, Lovers, you know what I mean; Nor could she hinder his Embraces, Love was now too far got in: Both now lying, panting, dying, Calm succeeds the stormy Joy; Tom would fain renew again, And Doll consents with Ay, ay, ay; Ay, ay, ay; ay, ay, ay. A SONG set by Mr. Thomas Farmer. HOW sweet is the Passion of Love! how gay is the Joy of the Soul! how pleasing those Fa— vours do prove, whose Kindness does Fortune control! Her Eyes that with In— flu— ence shone, obtained such a So— ve— reign Power; they exhaled out my Soul like the Sun, when it draws up the Dew from a Flower. II. Let no Man believe he is wise, By applauding the Musical Sphere; But turn his Ear to her Voice, And all that is Charming is there: My Heart which no Face could command, Within her sweet Bosom I lost; And with every touch of her hand, I was ready to give up the Ghost. LOVE'S Complaint against HONOUR. HAp— pie were the Ru— ral Swains, that loved with Freedom all the day; that sung their Pas— zions on the Plains, and passed with joy their Hours away: e'er Ambition taught Mankind to know, Degrees of less or greater; we a true Content did find, and found a thousand times the better. II. What's the gaudy lofty Sky The worse, for blessing Earth with Rain? Or the dazzling Deity, For stooping to the lowly Main? Ah then! why should I be blamed, For letting poor Amintor woe me? Yet I die with blushing Shame, For Honour tells me he's below me. Advice to a PAINTER; excellently Set by Monsieur Baptist. COme, curious Painter! let thy Art on Cynthia's lovely Face be shown; come draw her Picture from my Heart, and if thou canst, defend thy own: But ah! 'tis much in vain to try, for thou art Man as well as I. And none that's born of Mor— tall Race, can scape unwoun— ded from our Eyes; nor view the Glow Gl—ries of her Face, but with Despair or Plea— sure dies: Such was the Prophet's trembling Awe, when he the Great Credit— a— tor saw; such was the Prophet's trembling Awe, when he the Great Credit— a— tor saw. III. First in her Soul-commanding Face, A Sacred Innocence display; Then make her blush with such a Grace, As when Aurora paints the Day: And let it by thy Skill be shown For others faults, and not her own. IV. Draw in her Smiles, all Joys that grow In Heaven, and happy Lover's crown; And in a corner of her Brow, Damnation lurking in a Frown: Then paint me dying at her Feet, Thou hast done all that's Brave and Great. FINIS.