l:
He piqu'd, and repiqu'd so oft, that at last,
He swore by the Jolly fat _Nuns_;
If Cards came no better than those that are past,
Oh! oh! I shall lose all my _Buns_.

_A New_ SONG. _Translated from the_ FRENCH.

[Music]

Pretty Parret say, when I was away,
And in dull absence pass'd the Day;
What at home was doing;
With Chat and Play,
We are Gay,
Night and Day,
Good Chear and Mirth Renewing;
_Singing, Laughing all, Singing Laughing all, like pretty pretty_ Poll.

Was no Fop so rude, boldly to Intrude,
And like a sawcy Lover wou'd,
Court, and Teaze my Lady:
A Thing you know,
Made for Show,
Call'd a Beau,
Near her was always ready,
_Ever at her call, like pretty, pretty_ Poll.

Tell me with what Air, he approach'd the Fair,
And how she could with Patience bear,
All he did and utter'd;
He still address'd,
Still caress'd,
Kiss'd and press'd,
Sung, Prattl'd, Laugh'd, and Flutter'd:
_Well receiv'd in all, like pretty, pretty_ Poll.

Did he go away, at the close of the Day,
Or did he ever use to stay
In a Corner dodging;
The want of Light,
When 'twas Night,
Spoil'd my sight,
But I believe his Lodging,
_Was within her call, like pretty, pretty_ Poll.

_A_ SONG _by a Person of Honour. Set by Mr._ JOHN WELDON.

[Music]

At Noon in a sultry Summer's Day,
The brightest Lady of the _May_,
Young _Chloris_ Innocent and Gay,
Sat Knotting in a shade:
Each slender Finger play'd its part,
With such activity and Art;
As wou'd inflame a Youthful Heart,
And warm the most decay'd.

Her Fav'rite Swain by chance came by;
She had him quickly in her Eye,
Yet when the bashful Boy drew nigh,
She wou'd have seem'd afraid,
She let her Iv'ry Needle fall,
And hurl'd away the twisted Ball;
Then gave her _Strephon_ such a call,
As wou'd have wak'd the Dead.

Dear gentle Youth is't none but thee?
With Innocence I dare be free;
By so much Trust and Modesty,
No Nymph was e'er betray'd,
Come lean thy Head upon my Lap,
While thy soft Cheeks I stroak and clap;
Thou may'st securely take a Nap,
Which he poor Fool, obey'd.

She saw him Yawn, and heard him Snore,
And found him fast a sleep all o're;
She sigh'd ---- and cou'd no more,
But starting up she said,
Such Vertue shou'd rewarded be,
For this thy dull Fidelity;
I'll trust thee with my Flocks, not me,
Pursue thy Grazing Trade.

Go milk thy Goats,