A NEW COLLECTION Of the Choicest SONGS, As they are SUNG at COURT, BOTH THE theatres, THE MUSICK-SCHOOLS and Academies, &c.  
Collected for the Recreation of Gentlemen, Ladies, and others.  
London, Printed for D. Brown at the Black-Swan without war, and T. Benskin in St. Brides Church-Yard, 168 2 1. 9. Dec.   


The willing Lovers. A Pleasant New Song.  

1.  
AH Phillis awake,  
Come let us away,  
See how the Gray down  
Does Usher the day,  
The Lark aloud Sings,  
And the Flocks they do blate,  
Come Rise my dear Phillis,  
Before 'tis too late.   

2.  
Let us go where our Loves  
We may mutually bind;  
And then my dear Phillis  
We'l ever be kind;  
I'm willing my shepherd,  
And bless the fair Morn,  
That does our Nuptials  
With Purple Adorn.    

Cupids Chains Divided. A Delightful Song.  

1.  
MAdam, no more I ask your Love,  
Your Charms I all defy,  
Paint nor Perfumes no more shall move  
Me to such Fond Idolatry,  
Cupid thou God of troubles hence,  
Thou Enemy to Rest,  
Against thy Shafts I have a Fence,  
To Guard my wary Breast.   

2.  
That Women should suppose disdain,  
Scorns, Taunts and Coyness are,  
The ways our Services to gain,  
And take us in their Snare,  
'Tis nothing so, for those are things,  
That always sets us free,  
Ingratitude it always brings,  
Lov s Captives Liberty.    

Repentance too Late. A New Song,  

1.  
IN a myrtle Grove,  
Adorned with a Spring,  
As I did once Rove,  
I heard fair Phebe Sing.  
Alas, ye Powers above,  
Had I but once been kind,  
I still had had my Love,  
Who now no more I find.   

2.  
For by my Scorns he's Slain,  
Kind Damon who for me  
All others did Disdain,  
Curse on my cruelty.  
Witness ye Grove ye Spring,  
But his sad Fate I'll share,  
Whilst Swan like here I Sing,  
My Death persaging Care.    

The enchantment. A Pleasant New Song.  

1.  
Ye powers of Night-darkness, and the deep Cell  
Where poor tormented Ghosts for ever dwell,  
You, you, that Ride upon the swiftest wind,  
And from Earths Center easy passage find,  
Who scour the Regions of the air, and sweep  
With level wings the surface of the deep;  
Arise, arise, and fetch my Love again,  
Who now is floating on the Azer Main.   

2.  
Unbar the Caves where southwest winds do dwell  
Muster black Clouds, let them with tempest swell,  
Let lightning burn, till all the Ocean seem  
But one great blaze, a fiery foaming stream;  
Let the waves dash Heavens headlong falling fire  
And their curled tops above the Clouds aspire,  
Whilst the affrighted Pilot slacks his hand,  
Throws down his carded, & knows not how to stand   

3.  
Then, then at random drive the floating tower,  
Whilst it again return to this safe shore,  
That then amid my Love-aluring charms,  
He may rest safer then in Thetis arms,  
And so confess how he unkindly left  
Her, who with him, was of all joys bereft,  
Arise grim power I say, obey my will,  
Or else i'll drag you with my magic spell.    

A delightful Play-Song.  

1.  
SAd as Death at dead of Night,  
The fair complaining Celia fate,  
But one poor Lamp was all her light,  
And thus she reasoned with her fate,  
Why should man such triumphs gain,  
And purchase joys that give us pain;  
Ah, what Glory can ensue,  
A helpless Virgin to undo.   

2.  
Curse the Night, and Curse the Hour,  
When first he drew thee to his arms,  
When Virtue was betrayed by Power,  
And yielded to unlawful Charms,  
When Love approached with all his fiers,  
armed with hopes and strong desires,  
Sighs and tears, and every wile  
With which the Men the Maids beguile.   

3.  
Dream no more of pleasure past,  
Since thy Torments are to come,  
The secret is made known at last,  
And endless shane is now my doom,  
The false forsworn, alas is gone,  
And left thee to despair alone,  
Who that hears of Celia's pain,  
Will ever ever trust a Man again.    

virtues Admirer. A New Song, as it is Sung at the Musick-Schools.  

1.  
INspire Apollo's Sacred Muse,  
Ye nymphs of Helicon infuse,  
Who on Parnassus tops do dwell,  
Breath, breath new flames whilst that I tell,  
Or warble Amorous descant forth  
In Mariana's Praise and worth:  
Roses go hid, lilies hence fly,  
All blooming Blossoms  shed and die.   

2.  
No outside form I mean to Paint,  
On this my much admired Saint,  
But her perfections in her Soul,  
Which like to Silver streams still roll:  
Of Wisdom, Love, and Meekness, seat  
The Center where all virtues meet,  
All Graces dwell, this only this,  
Should be esteemed Loves paradise.   

3.  
And not the Gaudy outside bloom,  
Which soon will whither and consume,  
Which Summers heat or Winters could,  
With Aged wrinkles can enfold,  
But in my Love such Beauties dwell,  
That Death himself can never kill;  
A lovely lasting happiness,  
I with ten thousand Joys possess.    

The Countrymans compliment, Or the cracking of Philberts. A Pleasant New Song.  

HOw now Joan, ad's-Zous well met,  
Dost see how Plaguely I'se sweat,  
I'se been a Nutting, dost thou see,  
And here Joan here is three for thee.  Joan. 
Thanks dear John, for now I find,  
You to me are swindging kind,  
But why is this i'th' midst so long,  
Sure the tother two are young.  John. 
Oh that's a Philbert my Sheeps eye,  
The other round ones that you spy,  
Are to make the Bunch complete,  
Come lends thy Nutcracker my sweet,  
Beneath this Bush lye down my dear,  
And thou'st ha'th ' Kernel for thy share.  Joan. 
O here then 'tis beneath my Waist,  
To crack your Philbert then make hast.   

2.  
Ah me the Kernel's passing sweet,  
My John where didst thou gather it,  
O-I'se do long for more, yet more,  
For I'se ne're tasted th' like before.  John. 
I'se have the three on which they grow,  
And thou'st nere want I'se tell thee but so,  
If that thy Nutcracker thou'st but lend,  
I'se will find Filberts to the end.    

The welsh Adventurer. A most Pleasant New Song.  

1.  
HUr was tell Hur a Trick,  
And Hur was tell hur a thing,  
Hur went good luck to seek,  
Until hur had like to Swing.  
Cots-Plut was see some could,  
And then her was think her Rich,  
And with it did straight make bold,  
For why hur fingers did Itch.   

2.  
But when hur had got it up,  
And with it was trudging away,  
Plut, hur was cry, stop, stop,  
And then hur was forced to stay;  
Then was carry hur to Crate house,  
From thence before Lord Shudg,  
Where was burn hur hand Adzouse,  
And then bid hur home to trudg.    

The Scotch Lovers: or the Threshing of the Pease-Mow. A most delightful Song.  

1.  
usually and Jenny one Evening late,  
Did gang to the Pease Mow, and there sat  
Talking of Love, when usually espies,  
Something by Moon-light 'twixt Jennys Th—  
alas my dear Jenny, prithee what is this,  
Nothing but what should be, by this kiss,  
'Tis dear usually, a little Fish-Pond,  
Where you may Angle with your Muckle wand.   

2.  
With that usually laid his Bonnet by,  
And off went's Plad this pastime to try,  
Whilst Jenny kissed him in muckle sort,  
And welcomed kind usually to the sport,  
Who cast in his bait, and it soon took,  
But at the end on't there was no hook;  
And therefore, though he did Angle long,  
He could catch no Fish, though they bit ding dung.    

A Charm against Winter: or, The Good-Fellows Delight. A New Song.  

1.  
WHen Winter Freezes up the Fountains,  
And Snow covers all the Mountains,  
Then for good liquour to keep us warm,  
O-brisk Canary that's a Charm;  
Of better proof then walls of Steel,  
With that once armed, no could we feel,  
It does defy the sharpest rage,  
That Northern blast can ever wage.   

2.  
The Eastern winds blow, but in vain,  
The Hoary Frosts, and drizling Rain,  
Like May-Dew seem to us, when we  
Do drink about most plenteously;  
When round round the Rummer does pass,  
And every Man takes off his Glass,  
Then let it Blow, let it frieze, let it Snow,  
We Sweat, whilst others shivering go.    

The Mournful shepherd. A New Song.  

1.  
GReat Pan thou God of shepherds hast,  
Assist an humble Swain,  
Whom the proud Nymphs bright Eyes did blast,  
And cause thus to complain,  
Whilst through the Wood I walking late,  
Under the coolest shade,  
I saw fair Cloris, O my Fate,  
Who by a Stream was laid.   

2.  
But starting up, unkindly fled,  
Although I wooed her stay,  
Swift as a wandering Fire she sped,  
That leads poor Man astray:  
And though I sought o'er Hill and Plain,  
Yet never since could I,  
A sight of all my Joys obtain,  
O bring her or I die.    

The frantic Lover. A New Song.  

1.  
GRim King of the Ghosts make hast,  
Come bring hither all your Train,  
See how the Pale Moon does wast,  
She is now just in her wain:  
Come Night-Hagg with all your Charms,  
Come Lapland witches away,  
And hug me close in your arms,  
To you my respects I'll pay.   

2.  
I'll Court you, and think you Fair,  
For Love has distracted my Brain,  
Nay, I will wed the Night-Mare,  
And Kiss her again and again;  
She'l not be scornful and Proud,  
Curse upon Love, let it go,  
I'll get me a winding shrowded,  
And down to the Ghosts below.    

The Invitation. A New Song.  

1.  
ARise my sweet Phillis, and let's to the Grove,  
And there in shades solace, and talk of our Love,  
There none shall o'er hear us, their Envy shan't come,  
And there for Loves pleasures we shall have large Room,  
Whilst over our heads the kind myrtle shall spread,  
We'l make the soft Grass and sweet Violets our Bed.   

2.  
The music of nightingales there shall us Charm,  
Whilst we lye folded soft all Arm in Arm;  
Arise then my Fairest, and let us away,  
For hark the sweet Lark does now summons the day;  
Come come my best Love, 'tis Philander does call  
In mighty Loves name, that does still command all.    

A New Town Catch.  
AT last the loud Murmours that troubled the State,  
The noise and False rumours, which Malice and hate  
Had causelessly raised to disturb our sweet Peace,  
Is quiter over-blown, and all Jealousies cease,  
And England will flourish again we do hope,  
In spite of Whig-Plotters, and those of the Pope.   

The Despairing Virgin. A New Song.  

1.  
ALL Joy to the Bride that blessed Hymen does Grace,  
Who Blushing receives her kind Bridegrooms embrace,  
And seems though most willing, unwilling and coy,  
And faintly resists what she fain would enjoy,  
She, she 'tis that's Happy, But O my hard fate,  
Pity God Cupid before't be too late:  
The flower of my Age I already have spent,  
And none e're yet asked me, why here I was sent.   

2.  
O the dread thought of deep Acharons Cell,  
And that I hereafter shall led Apes in Hell,  
Does almost distracted me, Lads, what must I do,  
Is't not prepost'rous for Women to Woe:  
A Curse of her pride and ambition, who first  
Brought up that false fashion, of all things the worst,  
Which tortures poor Virgins whilst mute we must sit,  
And( what they love most) see, but not ask for it.    

The Coy Virgin. A New Play-Song.  

1.  
Fast by a River, close under a shade,  
Fair Celia and Strephon one Evening were laid,  
The Youth pleaded strong for the fruits of his Love,  
But Honour had won her, his svit to reprove;  
She cried, where's the lustre when the Clouds shade the Sun,  
Or what is brisk Nectar, the taste being gon?  
Amongst Flowers on the Stalk, sweetest odours do dwell,  
But the Rose being gathered, it loses its smell.   

2.  
My dearest of Nymphs, the brisk Shepbeard replied,  
If e're you will argue, begin on Loves side,  
In matters of State, let all reason be shown,  
But Love is a power will be ruled by his own;  
Nor need the Coy Beauties be counted so rare,  
For scandal can't touch the Chast and the Fair;  
So scarce are the Joys Loves Alimbeck does fill,  
And Roses are sweetest when brought to the Still.    

Advice to Coy Virgins. A music Song.  
VIrgins be not Proud,  
Your Roses they will fade,  
And all the Beauteous shrowded  
Time will with wrinkles lad,  
Whilst that your Blooms does last,  
Disdain not Lover kind,  
Least when time does them blast,  
Then none at all you find.   

Song.  
RAttle, Rattle, Rattle comes the Car  
Of Grim Mars, the great God of War,  
And see where Venus sits by his side,  
Whilst Limping Vulcan seems to chide;  
See little Cupid pearching on high,  
From his Bow his Shaft lets fly,  
Whilst the smiling Queen of Love does yield,  
Yet so as She still keeps the Field.   

A Christmas Revel.  
TIs Christmas time, let's be Merry,  
Let's Play, Sing and Dance till we're weary,  
The Lasses let's Kiss,  
Let none come amiss,  
Be't Nan, Betty, Sue, Pegg or Mary,  
We'l have at 'em all,  
Black, Brown, Short or Tall,  
Doll, Prue, Kate, Ciss, Joan or Sary,  
Their Marks stand so fair,  
That you need not to fear,  
Though't be in the dark, to miscarry.   

The languishing Shephardess.  
COme away, come away,  
'Tis Celia calls the Swain,  
Why dost thou thus delay,  
And make me wait in vain;  
The Shades they do Conspire,  
That we should happy prove,  
In what we most desire,  
Even in the joys of Love.   

LOVE in Despair. A Play Song.  

1.  
ARise pale Ghost, and give me room,  
For upon Fates swift Wings I come,  
Death, Grisly King, to the I yield,  
Thou, thou alas hast gained thee Field,  
Better in thy could arms to rest,  
Then with despairing Love oppressed;  
Ah cruel Beauty, see thy power,  
How it destroys him in an hour.   

2.  
Whose arms like Whirlwinds raged in War,  
Whilst heaps of Slain his ways did Bar,  
He who ten Thousand Deaths has stood,  
Must now be guilty of his Blood,  
Then be it so, be strong my arm,  
To sunder Loves bewitching Charm,  
The dead is done, my Spirit fades,  
I come ye Ghosts to your dark shades.    

A HEALTH.  

TO Bacchus we drink,  
Come fill't to the brink,  
Let a Rummer go round whilst we're Merry,  
Let Misers take care,  
We never will spare,  
But round let it go till we're weary;  
O 'tis the brisk Wine,  
That makes us Divine,  
Then fill up a Bumper of Sherry.   

2.  
Round round let it go,  
Above and below,  
Whilst Stars they the Skies do bespangle,  
The Moon she Shines bright,  
Whilst we pass the Night,  
And scorn all such Sots as will wrangle,  
Here Will, here's to you,  
Gra-mercy true blew,  
No Cares shall our thoughts now entangle.    

The Charmed Lover.  

1.  
MY Mistress has Eyes like a Dove,  
Her Cheeks shane the lily and Rose,  
Her Lips like two Corrals do move,  
To show the white Pearls they enclose;  
Her Breasts seem two Pillars of Snow,  
And her Belly like Ivory bright,  
But oh! I'll not name what's below,  
But leave you to Judge the delight.   

2.  
Which often I've took in my dear,  
Whilst close I lay clasped in her arms,  
When right at the helm I did steer,  
Whilst she with her Syrean's charms,  
Did make me cast Anchor full oft,  
And all my lulled Senses beguiled,  
In Oceans of pleasure so soft,  
That Venus she rightly is styled.    

Cupids Snare. A pleasant Musick-school Song.  

1.  
TRiumphant Queen of Beauty,  
Ah you whose lightning Eyes,  
Makes me express my Duty,  
That once did Love despise;  
No force had all its Charming,  
Fond Cupid I disdained,  
And smile to see him Arming,  
To make me feel Loves pain.   

2.  
But now alas your Features  
Have charmed me; Soul of Love,  
Excelling Mortal Creatures,  
O let some Pitty move,  
To th' conquered be not Cruel,  
Dart, Dart some kindly Rays,  
Let not my Heart be Fuel,  
That evermore must blaze.    

The Mournful shepherd. A New Song.  

1.  
COuld Man his wish obtain,  
How happy would he be,  
But wishes seldom gain,  
And hopes they are in vain,  
If fortunes disagree.  
Pity ye Powers of love,  
Our Infelicity.  
Why should the Fates Conspire,  
To frustrate my desire,  
Since Love's the gentle fire,  
That keeps the world alive;  
But me it puts to pain,  
My wishes are in vain,  
Nor promise any hopes to gain.    

The Lovers Dream A Pleasant New Song.  

1.  
WHen gentle Slumber closed,  
My long-long-waking Eyes  
And I on Down reposed,  
Methought ten thousand joys  
Had rapt my Soul, for then  
I did suppose my Love  
Fast in my arms had been,  
And I her Charms did prove.   

2.  
Transported with the thought,  
I fancied none so blessed,  
But 'twas a shade I caught,  
The only air I pressed,  
Which waking, wounded more  
Then Mortal can express,  
And to the Stigian shore  
Fled all my happiness.    

The forsaken Nymph. A New Song.  

1.  
ARise ye Winds from your rough Caves,  
And rouse, O rouse the swelling Waves,  
O drive my Love again to Shore,  
That I may see his Face once more;  
Who flies from me on the broad back  
Of the Salt Ocean, through the tract  
Of yielding Floods, whilst left alone,  
I sigh, and tell deaf Rocks my moan.   

2.  
Cruel, O cruel, how he swore,  
He me for ever would adore  
Next to the powers Divine, but see  
Ye powers of Love Mens treachery;  
Too easy my beliefs betrayed,  
And all my hopes just blooming fade,  
Grief, Grief come on, to thee I'll wed,  
And on this Sea-bank make my Bed.   

3.  
Come Sea-Nymphs from your coral Caves,  
Arise blew Trytons from your Waves,  
Revenge my Death, O close my eyes,  
For wronged in Love, a Virgin dies,  
Witness the Fires that burns so bright,  
Witness the Tapers of the night,  
Witness the Spring and Groves she cried,  
And then she laid her down and died.    

Cupids Delight. A Play Song.  
AH how pleasant are the Charms of Love,  
Which like Streams are always floiwng,  
Ah how pleasant are the Charms of Love,  
Which like Streams are always flowing,  
So my Passions still a growing,  
Nothing but my Celia's Eyes can move,  
So my Passion's still a growing,  
Perfect and Immortal as the Joys above.   

The Joys of a happy Marriage. A New Play Song.  

1.  
ALL hail to the Pleasures of Love,  
All hail to the Amorous Charms,  
Where a chast Passion does move,  
Th' embrace of each others soft arms,  
Where kisses do Usher Love on,  
Soft Sighs and sweet Murmours invite,  
Whilst panting they pause, and then soon  
Afresh they begin their delight.   

2.  
Then who'd not enjoy such a bliss,  
To pass away Winters long shade,  
With Beauty, to Toy, Clip and Kiss,  
And on her soft Bosom be laid,  
And like the kind Turtles be Billing,  
To call on new pleasures apace,  
A striving to see who's most willing,  
Again and again to embrace.    

The Lovers Invocation. A New Play-house Song.  

1.  
BE still ye boisterous Waves,  
Green Neptune rage no more,  
begun Aeolian Slaves,  
To Scithia's rocky shore;  
Sea raging Trytons all,  
Whose Loud shells the deep,  
Summons to you I call,  
That you'd my love safe keep.   

2.  
From dangers that attend  
Such as do Plough your Brine,  
And him from Racks defend,  
Or shoal that undermine  
The smooth deceiving Flood,  
When Nerius leaves to swell,  
You Nymphs that in a wood  
Of Brauching coral dwell.   

3.  
Do you prove kind and Wooe,  
Thetis your Auziar Queen,  
That She'd to Neptune Sue,  
To rain his wil'd waves in,  
Whilst my Souls Charm returns,  
And I my Joy do find,  
( For whom my Passion burns)  
Freed both from waves and wind.    

A Catch.  
TO the wars, to the wars,  
To get honour and famed,  
Let us banish all fears,  
To create us a Name,  
The grim Tyrant out-face,  
And his Terrors despise,  
For by that we take place,  
Amongst Stars in the Skies.   

Advice to Virgins. A Musick-House Song.  

1.  
ONe Moon-shiny Night, as I walked out late,  
I saw a pale Image, and sadly it sate,  
At first I did think it might be some sad Ghost,  
That lately had strayed from Eliziums cost,  
But I found my mistake, for alas 'twas not so,  
But a sad Female that once I did know,  
She bewailed her hard Fate, and loudly She cried,  
When I believed Man first, I wish I had died.   

2.  
For ah my Virginity that is no more,  
Too easy I credited all that he Swore,  
But when he'd undone me, and got his desire,  
Oh then 'twas he Fled, and no more did admire.  
Therefore ye Young Damsels, who bloom in your Prime,  
Beware how false Man in your thoughts too high climb.  
Who dares to Invoke the bright Powers all above,  
To Witness his Constancy, Passion and Love,   

3.  
How to us Devotion for ever he'l pay,  
When as he our Honours designs to betray,  
Which being once done, Oh no more he proves kind,  
But leaves us, and seeks a new Object to find.  
When we Lament may our unhappy State,  
But then it avails not, for oh 'tis too Late,  
What's done can't be undone, then prove not too kind,  
But take my Advice, for I Speak as I find.    

The Ranting City Dame. A Song much in Use.  

HA now I am Married, let others take care,  
I've one to provide for me, and I'll not spare,  
I'll take me a Coach, and away to hid Park,  
There I'll be Courted by every spark,  
There's none shall go finer whilst that it does hold,  
My Gown shall be Tissue, all spangl'd with Gold.   

My Jewels and Rings, and what ever beside,  
I will have, that may but conduce to my Pride,  
If Husband dare Grumble, I'll graft such a Crest,  
As it shall soon make him be known from the rest,  
Whilst I with fine Gallants do take my delight,  
We'l Revel all day, and we'l sport it all Night.    

Loves Tyranny, or the Disdainful Beauty. A New Song.  
POwers on high,  
From the sky,  
Cast an Eye,  
And espy  
The Flames that do Consume my Soul;  
Tyrant Love  
He does move,  
And does prove,  
Fierce as Jove,  
Whose flaming Thunders shake the Pole;  
Cruel fair  
Cause of care,  
Beauteous snare,  
O yet hear,  
And do not all my joys control.   

Fames Darling. A New Snog.  

HArk how the loud Trumpets they Shrilly do Sound,  
And Drums they do Rattle, whilst echoes rebound,  
The fierce Prancing Steeds, whose Nostrils hreath flamme,  
Stands champing their Bits, whilst that Eagle winged famed,  
Spurs on the brave warrior, Deaths fears to deride,  
And where battle Rages, in Arms to abide.   

2.  
Whilst Leaden Thunder-bolts sing round his Head,  
And the Crimson Fields are bestrowed with the Dead,  
The Clashing bright Swords, and the shaking of Spears▪  
Are the best music that Sounds in his Ears;  
Such is brave Monmouth, the dread of whose Name,  
Made Monsieur to tremble Scotch Rebels did tame.    

A Catch.  
WHen Jove to fair Dane in Showers of Gold,  
Made first his Addresses in the Brazen hold,  
The Virgin she blushed and Admired, till at last,  
The Glitering o'er in a trance had her Cast,  
And then he embraced her, for scarce is it said,  
That any holds out when such Batterys are made,  
Brisk Lasses oft times to an Incubus wed,  
If he but with Gold, and with Silver be Sped.   

The Country Bargain. A most delightful Song.  

JUgg what Zaist thou, shall we be married,  
For in good troth we's long have tarried,  
Oh at thy Lips Jugg to have a smack,  
Is not all thou hast something that's black,  
That better will please me, for I long  
To have a Buckle fit for my Thong;  
Then say Jugg, say Jugg, shall it be so,  
And I'se unto the person will go.   

2.  
O kind hodge, I fear you do but Jest,  
But if in Earnest, I think it best,  
That you my Grannums good will do get,  
And then we soon will forward set,  
For why you know, she's a good old Trot,  
And may give us the Devil knows what;  
As for Flittermilk and whey, I'am sure  
We shall not want whilst she has store.   

3.  
By my Fathers clotted Shoon thou'rt right,  
And I'll unto the old Jade this night,  
And then Jugg to morrow for the sport,  
When I'se shall use thee in Muckle sort,  
Buss thee and hug thee till thou dost sweat,  
When in thy Smock I once do the get,  
O the Fancy does make my chaps water,  
To think when married what will come after.    

The Enjoyment. A pleasant Song.  

1.  
AS through the woods I roved,  
A Nymph there Naked lay,  
Whose Charms so powerful proved,  
That they enforced my stay,  
Diana sure said I  
Does sweetly here repose,  
The Goddess of the sky,  
Who her pail Mantle throws.   

2.  
Over the Darkest shades,  
Pardon bright form I cried,  
For Love my heart Invades,  
And to her then I hied,  
No longer could I hold,  
But clasped her in my arms,  
Who struggling in that Fold,  
produced a thousand charms.    

The enlightened Quaker. A pleasant Chant.  

1.  
BY Yea and Nay, now I am moved,  
Come Rachel come, you must be proved;  
The Inward Man has plainly said,  
When Satans up, he must be laid,  
And now I say to thee he's stiff,  
Prepare thy Vessel with the Cliff,  
Yea, Buffet him till he is down,  
By yea and nay you must not frown   

2.  
The Wicked shall not see it done,  
Nay, now the Raging fit comes on,  
The outward Man does strongly rise,  
O hold him fast between thy Thighs,  
Nay, till he's Tame, let him not go,  
Although he struggle never so;  
So, so, 'tis done, and now I say,  
Gods Lambs together thus may play.    

Cupids Net broken. A New Song.  

1.  
TOrture me no more you pangs of Love,  
I'll not endure your Cruelties,  
Alas that Virtue it should proves,  
Of force too weak for Womans Eyes,  
That the keen glances those Orbs sand,  
Should through our Souls a passage gain,  
That man his thoughts should soly bend,  
To seek for that which causes pain.   

2.  
Indulgent folly, hence away,  
Beauties bright Beams I will rebate,  
Its charms no more shall me betray,  
Nor will I Court my rigged Fate;  
Loves God your Shafts keep in your Quiver,  
For Virtue shall their force repel:  
I once have loved, but more will never,  
Never such languid Torments feel.    
FINIS.