Were Virgil alive with his Phillis, He'd give up for sweet Molly Mog. When she smiles on each guest, like her liquor, Then jealousy sets me agog; To be sure she's a bit for the vicar, A NEW SONG OF NEW SIMILIES. MY passion is as mustard strong; I sit all sober sad, Drunk as a piper all day long, Or like a March hare mad. Round as a hoop the bumpers flow; Pert as a pearmonger I'd be, The rest of womankind. Like a stuck pig I gaping stare, Plump as a partridge was I known, And soft as silk my skin; I, melancholy as a cat, Am kept awake to peep; Hard is her heart as flint or stone; The God of Love, at her approach, Hearts sound as any bell or roach Ah me! as thick as hops or hail, Straight as my leg her shape appears; As fine as fivepence is her mien ; As soft as pap her kisses are : As smooth as glass, as white as curds, Her pretty hand invites ; Sharp Sharp as a needle are her words; Brisk as a body-louse she trips, Full as an egg was I with glee, Good Lord! how all men envied me! But, false as Hell, she, like the wind, If I and Molly could agree, Till you grow tender as a chick, And warm as any toast. You'll know me truer than a die, Flat as a flounder when I lie, Sure as a gun she'll drop a tear, And sigh, perhaps, and wish, When I am rotten as a pear, And mute as any fish. NEW NEWGATE'S GARLAND: Being a new Ballad, showing how Mr. Jonathan Wild's Throat was cut from Ear to Ear, with a Penknife, by Mr. Blake, alias Blueskin, the bold Highwayman, as he stood at his Trial in the Old Bailey, 1725. TO THE TUNE OF THE CUTPURSE. I. YE gallants of Newgate, whose fingers are nice Good news ye shall hear, How Jonathan's throat was cut from ear to ear, How Blueskin's sharp penknife hath set you at ease, And ev'ry man round me may rob, if he please. II. When to the Old Bailey this Blueskin was led, He drew his penknife, And made a sad widow of Jonathan's wife. III. Some III. Some say there are courtiers of highest renown, To pillage the king, And get a blue riband instead of a string. Now Blueskin's sharp penknife hath set you at ease, And ev'ry man round me may rob, if he please. IV. Knaves, of old, to hide guilt by their cunning inventions, Call'd briberies grants, and plain robberies pensions : Now ev'ry man may Rob (as safe as in office) upon the highway. V. Some cheat in the Customs, some rob the Excise : They may be more bold, And rob on the highway since Jonathan's cold: For Blueskin's sharp penknife hath set you at ease, And ev'ry man round me may rob, if he please. VI. Some |