at_, &c.

Maids like Turtles, love the Cooing,
Bill and Murmur in their Wooing;
Thus like you they start and tremble,
And their troubled Joys dissemble:
_Thus like you_, &c.

Grasp the Pleasure while 'tis coming,
Though your Beauty's now a blooming;
Lest old time our Joys should sever,
Ah! ah! they part, they part for ever:
_Lest old time_, &c.

_The Power of_ BEAUTY.

[Music]

In a Flowry Myrtle _Grove_,
The solitary Scene of Love,
On Beds of Vi'lets, all the Day,
The Charming _Floriana_ lay;
The little _Cupids_ hover'd in the Air,
They peep'd and smil'd, and thought their Mother there.

_Ph[oe]bus_ delay'd his Course a while,
Charm'd with the spell of such a Smile,
Whilst weary _Plough-men_ curs'd the stay,
Of the too _Uxorious_ Day:
The little _Cupids_ hover'd in the Air,
They peep'd and smil'd, and thought their Mother there.

But thus the _Nymph_ began to chide,
"That Eye, you owe the World beside,
You fix on me", then with a Frown
She sent her drooping Lover down;
With modest Blushes from the _Grove_ she fled,
Painting the Evening with unusual Red.

_The_ HUNT.

[Music]

Some in the Town go betimes to the _Downs_,
To pursue the fearful Hare;
Some in the Dark love to hunt in a _Park_,
For to chace all the Deer that are there:
Some love to see the Faulcon to flee,
With a joyful rise against the Air;
But all my delight is a Cunny in the Night,
When she turns up her silver Hair.

When she is beset, with a Bow, Gun, or Net,
And finding no shelter for to cover her;
She falls down flat, or in a Tuft does squat,
'Till she lets the Hunter get over her:
With her breast she does butt, and she bubs up her Scut,
When the Bullets fly close by her Ear;
She strives not to escape, but she mumps like an Ape,
And she turns up, _&c._

The Ferret he goes in, through flaggs thick and thin,
Whilst Mettle pursueth his Chace;
The Cunny she shows play, and in the best of her way,
Like a Cat she does spit in his Face:
Tho' she lies in the Dust, she fears not his Nest,
With her full bound up Sir, career;
With the strength that she shows, she gapes at the Nose,
And she turns up, _&c._

The sport is so good, that in Town or in Wood,
In a Hedge, or a Ditch you may do it;
In Kitchen or in Hall, in a Barn or in a Stall,
Or wherever you please you may go