_A_ SONG _Sung by Mrs._ CROSS. _Set by Mr._ JEREMIAH CLARK. [Music] Divine _Astrea_ hither flew, To _Cynthia's_ brighter Throne; She left the Iron World below, To bless the Silver Moon: _She left the Iron World below,_ _To bless the Silver Moon._ Tho' _Phoebus_ with his hotter Beams, Do's Gold in Earth Create; That leads those wretches to Extreams, Of Av'rice, Lust, and Hate. _A_ SONG _in the_ Surpriz'd Lovers. _Set by Mr._ John Eccles, _Sung by Mr._ BOWMAN. [Music] When first I saw her charming Face, Her taking Shape and moving Grace; My Rosie Cheeks, my Rosie Cheeks did glow with heat, My Heart and my Pulse did beat, beat, beat, My Heart and my Pulse did beat; I wish'd for a, I wish'd for a, do you, do you guess what, Do you guess what makes Soldiers fight, Soldiers Fight, and States-men Plot. Subdues us all in every thing, And makes, makes a Subject of a King; Still she deny'd, and I reply'd, Away she flew, I did pursue, At last I catch'd her fast; But oh! had you seen, but oh! had you seen, Had you seen what had past between; Oh! I fear, I fear, oh! I fear, I fear, oh! I fear, I fear, I fear, I have spoil'd her Wast. _A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ AKEROYD. [Music] The _Devil_ he pull'd of his Jacket of Flame, The _Fryer_ he pull'd off his Cowle; The _Devil_ took him for a Dunce of the Game, And the _Fryer_ took him for a Fool: He piqu'd, and repiqu'd so oft, that at last, He swore by the Jolly fat _Nuns_; If Cards came no better than those that are past, Oh! oh! I shall lose all my _Buns_. _A New_ SONG. _Translated from the_ FRENCH. [Music] Pretty Parret say, when I was away, And in dull absence pass'd the Day; What at home was doing; With Chat and Play, We are Gay, Night and Day, Good Chear and Mirth Renewing; _Singing, Laughing all, Singing Laughing all, like pretty pretty_ Poll. Was no Fop so rude, boldly to Intrude, And like a sawcy Lover wou'd, Court, and Teaze my Lady: A Thing you know, Made for Show, Call'd a Beau, Near her was always ready, _Ever at her call, like pretty, pretty_ Poll. Tell me with what Air, he approach'd the Fair, And how she could with Patience bear, All he did and utter'd; He still address'd, Still caress'd, Kiss'd and press'd, Sung, Prattl'd, Laugh'd, and Flutter'd: _Well receiv'd in all, like pretty, pretty_ Poll. Did he go away, at the close of the Day, Or did he ever use to stay In a Corner dodging; The want of Light, When 'twas Night, Spoil'd my sight, But I believe his Lodging, _Was within her call, like pretty, pretty_ Poll. _A_ SONG _by a Person of Honour. Set by Mr._ JOHN WELDON. [Music] At Noon in a sultry Summer's Day, The brightest Lady of the _May_, Young _Chloris_ Innocent and Gay, Sat Knotting in a shade: Each slender Finger play'd its part, With such activity and Art; As wou'd inflame a Youthful Heart, And warm the most decay'd.