ny, bonny sports pass o'er the Day,
And leave poor _Jenny_ tol complain:
My _Sawndy's_ grown a faithless Loon,
And given, given _Moggy_ that wild Heart;
Which eance he swore was aw my own,
But now weese me I've scarce a part.

Gang thy gate then perjur'd _Sawndy_,
Ise nea mere will Mon believe;
Wou'd Ise nere had trusted any,
They faw Thieves will aw deceive:
But gin ere Ise get mere Lovers,
Ise Dissemble as they do;
For since Lads are grown like Rovers,
Pray why may na Lasses too.

_The_ Restauration: _Or the_ Coventry SONG.

1710.

[Music]

The Restauration now's the Word,
A blessed Revolution;
That has secur'd the Church, the Crown,
And _England's_ Constitution:
May ev'ry Loyal Soul rejoice,
May WHIGS and Canters mourn, Sir;
Who ever thought that _Coventry_,
Shou'd make a due Return, Sir.

We Rally'd the Church-Militant,
And fell to work ding-dong, Sir;
_Craven_ and _Gery_ are the Names,
That do adorn our Song, Sir:
_Beaufort_, _Ormond_, _Rochester_,
And more than we can tell, Sir;
Are Themes that well deserve the Pen,
Of brave _Sacheverell_, Sir.

The glorious Sons of _Warwickshire_,
May justly be commended;
There's ne'er a Member now Elect,
That ever has offended:
_Denbigh_ and _Craven_ we esteem,
A Loyal Noble pair, Sir;
And hope to see our worthy Friend,
Great _Bromly_ in the Chair, Sir.

_A_ SONG.

Such an happy, happy Life,
Ne'er had any other Wife;
As the loose _Corinna_ knows,
Between her Spark,
Her Spark and Spouse:
The Husband lies and winks his Eyes,
The valiant makes Addresses,
The wanton Lady soon complies,
With tenderest Caresses.

The Wife is pleas'd,
The Husband eas'd,
The Lover made a drudge,
His Body's drain'd, his Pocket's squeez'd;
And who'll his Pleasure grudge,
_Such an happy_, &c.

_Corinna's_ gay,
As Flow'rs in _May_,
And struts with slanting Ayre;
The Lovers for her Pride doth pay,
The Cuckold's free from Care,
_Such an happy_, &c.

COLLIN's _Complaint_.

[Music]

Despairing besides a clear stream,
A Shepherd forsaken was laid;
And whilst a false Nymph was his Theme,
A Willow supported his Head:
The Winds that blew over the Plain,
To his Sighs with a Sigh did reply;
And the Brook in return of his Pain,
Ran mo