The Čouragious Gallant; OR, ČUPID Degraded.  

True Lovers grief may find Relief,  
Good Wine will cure the cause;  
Then Fill the Glass, and let it pass,  
A Fig for CUPIDS Laws.   
To the Tune of, Four-Pence-Half-Penny-Farthing.  
This may be Printed, N. P.  
 
 

AWay with Cupid's idle Darts  
what doth he mean I wonder,  
He makes a stir with breaking hearts,  
such grief I'll ne'er lie under:  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be Jolly,  
with me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair  
which is not kind, and willing.   

Some doting fools there is I know,  
will cringe and bow to Beauty  
And stand in fear of Cupid's Bow,  
as counting it their Duty:  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be jolly,  
to me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair  
which is not kind and willing.   

Let me enjoy the charming Bowl  
of Liquor when in Season,  
It quickens ev'ry Noble Soul,  
and Ripens all our Reason;  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be jolly,  
with me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair  
which is not kind and willing.   

No Lo●…ve no Life.   
 

Now fill the Glasses to the brim,  
for this will paint our Faces,  
And drink a full Carouse to him  
that slights all fond embraces:  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be jolly,  
to me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair,  
which is not kind and willing.   

Fair Phillis once her Love did show  
to me, but once I lost her,  
I scorned the Tyrannising Bow  
of Cupid that Impostor:  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be jolly,  
with me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair,  
which is not kind and willing.   

Since Cupid uses subtle Charms,  
I scornfully beheld him,  
I'll hug the Bottle in my arms  
now may the D — Geld him;  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be jolly,  
with me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair,  
which is not kind and willing.   

Now drink about and never spare,  
resolving to be merry,  
No Phillis in the World more fair  
than Glasses of Canary:  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be jolly,  
to me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair  
which is not kind and willing.   

Now he's an Ass that seems to dote,  
and waits a Woman's Leisure,  
I'd have him learn to change his note  
with us enjoy true pleasure;  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be jolly,  
to me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair,  
which is not kind and willing.   

We'll lay our hearts a soak in Sack,  
it is a cure for Sadness,  
This Liquor never let us lack,  
since too much Love is Madness;  
Fond Love is a folly, Boys we'll be jolly,  
to me it shan't be Killing,  
Grand fools they are that counts her fair  
which is not kind and willing.   

I know there's few but love to sport,  
of all degrees I vow man,  
From jovial Gallants at the Court,  
to Country Ralph the Ploughman:  
For he●l be jolly, with Hate and Molly,  
who take delight in billing,  
Grand fools they are who count her fair,  
which is not kind and willing.    

Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street without Newgate.