Pillows by the trillows,
Of a gentle Purling Stream,
Oh how sweet, _&c._ Charming sweet, _&c._

Oh how kind the Country Lass,
Who her Cows bilking, leaves her Milking,
For a green Gown upon the Grass,
Oh how kind, _&c._ Charming kind, _&c._

Oh how sweet it is to spy,
At the Conclusion, her deep confusion,
Blushing Cheeks and down cast Eye,
Oh how sweet, _&c._ Charming sweet, _&c._

Oh the Charming Curds and Cream,
When all is over she gives her Lover,
Who on her Skimming-dish carves her Name,
Oh the Charming Curds and Cream,
Charming, Charming Curds and Cream.

Tune, _Hopes farewel_.

Fates I defie, I defie your Advances,
Since _Caelia_ has crown'd
My true Love with a Smile;
I'll laugh at your Darts,
Your Arrows and Lances,
Since her Bosom abounds,
With the Pleasures of Nile.

You shall never,
Me from her sever,
Since that my _Caelia_ has thrown by her Scorn:
Then forbear,
To come so near,
For I from _Caelia_ can never be torn.

_The Country_ FARMER'S _Campaign_: _By the Author of_ Banter'd and
Bubbl'd, _&c._

[Music]

Oh _Roger_ I've been to see _Eugene_,
By _Villars_ over-reach'd;
And that _Dutch_ Earl, great _Albermarle_,
So foolishly Detach'd:
For _Phil_ of _Spain_, saw _Doway_ tain,
And _Quesnoy_ close beset;
Saw _Frenchmen_ grin, at Count _Rechstrin_,
And _Dutchmen_ in a Sweat.

With both my Eyes _Auxiliaries_,
I saw desert our Cause;
Old _Zinzendorf_ did buy 'em off,
But never stopp'd their Maws:
Whilst ORMOND he most orderly,
Did march them towards _Ghent_;
The _German_ Dogs, with great _Dutch_ Hogs,
Their towns against him Pent.

Were not we mad to spend our Blood,
And weighty Treasure so;
Do they deserve, that we should serve,
Adad we'll make them know:
They'll be afraid, of Peace and Trade,
And downfal of the WHIGS;
Our glorious ANN, with _France_ and _Spain_,
Will dance then many a Jigg.

If they have a mind, 'fore Peace be Sign'd,
To own Great ANNA'S Power;
Such Terms she'll get, as she thinks fit,
And they shall have no more:
Great _Oxford's_ Earl, that weighty Pearl,
And Minister of State:
With _Bollingbrook_, I swear adzooks,
Old _England_ will be great.

We Farmers then, shall be fine Men,
And Money have good store;
Their WHIGISH Tax they'll have with a Po