And _Gillian_ my Wife likewise, Of Wool to make you Coats, Will give you as much at New Year's Tide, As shall be worth ten Groats: And in your Praise my Bagpipe shall Sound sweetly once a Year, How _Alfred_ our renowned King, Most kindly hath been here. Thanks Shepherd, thanks, quoth he again The next time I come hither, My Lords with me here in this House, Will all be merry together. _A_ SONG. _Sung by Mrs._ Bracegirdle. [Music] Cease, cease of _Cupid_ to complain, Love, Love's a Joy even while a Pain; Oh! then think! oh! then think; Oh! then think how great his Blisses, Moving Glances, balmy Kisses, Charming Raptures, matchless Sweets, Love, Love alone, Love, Love alone, Love, Love alone, all Joys compleats. _A_ SONG. _Sung by Mrs._ BRACEGIRDLE. [Music] Come, come ye Nymphs, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain, _Galatea_ leaves the Main, To revive us on the Plain, To revive us, to revive us, to revive us on the Plain; Come, come, come, come ye Nymphs, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain, _Galatea_ leaves the Main, To revive us on the Plain, To revive us on the Plain, Come ye Nymphs and ev'ry Swain. _A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ John Barret. [Music] _Ianthia_ the lovely, the Joy of her Swain, By _Iphis_ was lov'd, and lov'd _Iphis_ again; She liv'd in the Youth, and the Youth in the Fair, Their Pleasure was equal, and equal their Care; No Time, no Enjoyment their Dotage withdrew; But the longer they liv'd, but the longer they liv'd, Still the fonder they grew. A Passion so happy alarm'd all the Plain, Some envy'd the Nymph, but more envy'd the Swain; Some swore 'twould be pity their Loves to invade, That the Lovers alone for each other was made: But all, all consented, that none ever knew, A Nymph yet so kind, a Nymph yet so kind, Or a Shepherd so true. Love saw 'em with Pleasure, and vow'd to take care Of the faithful, the tender, the innocent Pair; What either did want, he bid either to move, But they wanted nothing, but ever to love: Said, 'twas all that to bless him his God-head cou'd do, That they still might be kind, that they still might be kind, And they still might be true. _A_ SONG. [Music] Bring out your Coney-Skins Bring out your Coney-Skins Maids to me, And hold them fair that I may see, Grey, Black and Blue, for the smaller Skins I'll give you Bracelets, Laces, Pins, And for your whole Coney Here's ready Money, Come gentle _Joan_, do thou begin With thy black Coney, thy black Coney-Skin, And _Mary_ and _Joan_ will follow, With their Silver-hair'd Skins and yellow; The White Coney-Skin I will not lay by, For tho' it be faint, it is fair to the Eye: The Grey it is worn, but yet for my Money, Give me the bonny, bonny black Coney; Come away fair Maids, your Skins will decay, Come and take Money Maids, put your Wares away: Ha'ye any Coney-Skins, ha'ye any Coney-Skins, Ha'ye any Coney-Skins here to sell? _A_ SONG.