I was up to my elbows i' fun, Such as I never see'd i' my life; That wi' laughing I thought I'd ha' died. In the farce of the--" Devil to Pay," Sing tol, &c. By the pow'r of his wonderful strap; And get him to make one for me. Sing tol, & Now I'm com'd to the end o' my story, So to cut my tale short, --I'm com❜d out, Sing tol, &c. ** THE GIRL OF THE SEASONS. I'M the Girl of the Seasons, am knowu far and near, And the gentlemen say too I'm pretty; As the sun, I am true to the varying year, As so gaily I sing, Two bunches a penny sweet cowslips, Two bunches a penny. When the spring is departed, I'm still to be found, While I sing through the street, Two bunches a penny moss roses, But the summer takes leave, and my roses all die, While this is my tale,. They're two for a penny green gages, But this whirligig world brings us winter at last, Why she sings thro' the storm, and she smiles at the blast, As for grieving, she thinks it a folly: This song then you hear, They're two for a penny ripe pipins, LOVE AND LOYALTY. SHOU'D fears alarm, or threats appal, On land, at home, on shore, at sea. And sing the universal theme, When tempests tear, or storms retard, Then, O bless, &e. If madness lend, or grief impart, To shatter'd sense their iron sway, The mist that gathers o'er the heart, A ray divine can chase away. Then, O bless, &c. FOR A WIFE. I'M just come in search of a wife, One who's pretty and witty, and nothing amiss,.. Not talking or toward, Nor wand'ring, nor squand'ring, Nor leering, nor jeering, With other gay ladies. Such, such is the wife, I wish for thro' life,, To th' op'ra I rattled at first, But of all places that was the worst, For out of each box the sweet misses watch, And titter and ogle, 'till husbands they catch;. While their mothers all sit behind 'em, And smirk, smile, and chatter, While fops flirt and flatter, Their malice disarming, With, how hot, and how charming, How d'ye do, how d'ye do, Such, such is the wife, I don't wish for thro' life, If I did, Iknow where I might find 'em. Every soon scamper'd away, To each concert, Hyde-Park, and the play; But such dancing and prancing, and doing all that,. All smile on me now, That if I e'er want a wife, to suit me for life, A METHODIST SERMON, From G. A. Steven's Lecture on Heads. BRETHREN! Brethren! Brethren! (the word! Brethren comes from the Tabernacle, because we all do breathe-there-in,) What are you drowzy? : then I'll rouze ye; I'll beat a tat-too upon the parchment cases of your consciences, and whip the devil about like a whirl-a-gig among you, I will, I will, I will---Even as the cat, even as the cat upon the top of the house doth squall out, so from the bottom of my voice will I bawl out; and the organ pipes of my lungs, and the organ pipes of my lungs shall play a voluntary among ye; and the sweet words that I shall utter, and the sweet words that I shall utter, will sugar candy your souls, and make: carraway comfits of your consciences. Do you know how many tailors make a man? Why nine.---Nine tailors make a man---And how many half a man? Why four journeymen and an apprentice. Even so have ye been all bound apprentice to Miss Fortune, the Fashion Maker, and now you are out of your times; you have set up for. yourselves, you have, you have, you have.---Did you ever see a man eat boiling hot hasty pudding ?. Do you know how many wry faces he makes when it scalds him? Just so many wry faces will you: make when Old Nick has nicked you. My great bowels groan for ye, and my small guts yearn for ye. I have got the gripes, the gripes of compassion; and the belly ach of pity----Give me a dram! Give me a diam! Give me a dram !--- A drani of patience I mean; while I explain unto you what Reformation and Abomination mean; which the worldly wicked have mixed together like buttermilk and potatoes, and therewith make a sinful stirabout. Reformation is like the comely froth at the top. of a tankard of Porter; and Abomination, why, that is like the dregs at the bottom of the tap-tub. Have you carried your consciences to the Scowerers lately? Have you bought any Fuller's earth to take the stains out? You say yes; you have, you have, you have---But I say no; you lie! you lie ! you lie! -- I am no velvet mouth preacher! I scorn your lawn sleeves.---You are full of filth; ye must be boiled and parboiled; yea, ye must be boiled down in our Tabernacle, to make portable. soup, for the saints to sup a laddle full of, and then the scum and the scaldings of your iniquities will boil over, and that is called the kitchen stuff of your conscience, which serves to grease the cart wheels that carries us over the devil's ditch, why, there is the devil's ditch, aye and the devil's gap too.----The devil's ditch, that's among the jockeys at Newmarket; and the devil's gap, that's among the other jockeys, the Lawyers at Lincoln's Inn Fields.---And then there is the devil among the tailors, and the devil among the players; yes, yes, the players, they play the devil to pay.----The playhouse is Satan's ground, where women stretch themselves out upon the tenter-hooks of Temptation. Tragedy is the blank verse of Belzebub; Comedy is his hasty pudding; and Pantomime is the devil's country dance.---And yet you'll pay the players for seeing plays, yes, yes, but you won't |