aster:
This frighted the _Flemming_,
And made him so beseeming,
That he doth never think of his lost Lands redeeming.

But he that can tower,
Over him that is lower,
Would be counted but a Fool to give away his Power:
Take Books and rent them,
Who would invent them,
When as the Sword replys _Negatur Argumentur_:
The grand College Butlers,
Must vail to the Sutlers,
There's not a Library like to the Cutlers;
The Blood that is spilt, Sir,
Hath gain'd all the Guilt, Sir,
Thus have you seen me run the Sword up to the Hilt, Sir.

_Queen_ DIDO.

[Music]

When _Dido_ was a _Carthage_ Queen,
She lov'd a _Trojan_ Knight;
Who sail'd about from Coast to Coast,
Of Metal brave in Fight:

As they Hunting rid, a Shower,
Did on their Heads with fury pour,
Drove 'em to a lonely Cave,
Where _AEneas_ with his Charms,
Caught fair _Dido_ in his Arms,
And got what he would have.

Then _Dido Hymen's_ Rites forgot,
Her Love was won in hast;
Her Honour she consider'd not,
But in her Breast him plac'd;
Now when their Loves were just began,
Great _Jove_ sent down his winged Son,
To fright _AEneas'_ sleep:
Make him by the break of Day,
From Queen _Dido_ steal away,
Which caus'd her wail and weep.

Poor _Dido_ wept, but what of that?
The Gods would have it so;
_AEneas_ nothing did amiss,
When he was forc'd to go:
Cease Lovers, cease your Vows to keep,
With your true Loves, but let 'em weep,
'Tis folly to be true;
Let this comfort serve your turn,
That tho' wretched _Dido's_ mourn,
You'll daily Court anew.

_False_ PHILLIS, _Set by Mr._ JAMES HART.

[Music]

Since _Phillis_ swears Inconstancy,
Then I'll e'en do so too;
I careless am as well as she,
She values not her Vow.

To sigh, to languish, and protest,
Let feeble Fops approve;
The Women's way I like the best,
Enjoyment is their Love.

When I my _Phillis_ do embrace,
There's none can happier be;
But when she's gone, the next fair Face,
Is _Phillis_ then to me.

I find her Absence cools Desire,
As well as her Disdain;
When Hope denys to feed my Fire,
Despair shall ease my Pain.

_A_ SONG.

[Music]

Blush not redder than the Morning,
Though the Virgins give you Warning;
Sigh not at the chance befel you,
Though they smile, and dare not tell you;
_Sigh not