Oh! was she but as true as fair, 'Twou'd put an end to my Despair; But ah, alass! this is unkind, Which sore does terrify my Mind; _'Twas o'er the Hills, and far away,_ _'Twas o'er the Hills, and far away,_ _'Twas o'er the Hills, and far away,_ _That_ Jenny _stole my Heart away._ Did she but feel the dismal Woe That for her Sake I undergo, She surely then would grant Relief, And put an end to all my Grief: But oh, she is as false as fair, Which causes all my sad Despair; She triumphs in a proud Disdain, And takes Delight to see my Pain; _'Tis o'er the Hills_, &c. Hard was my Hap to fall in Love, With one that does so faithless prove; Hard was my fate to court the Maid, That has my constant Heart betray'd: A thousand times to me she swore, She would be true for evermore: But oh! alas, with Grief I say, She's stole my Heart, and ran away; _'Twas o'er the Hills_, &c. Good gentle _Cupid_ take my part, And pierce this false one to the Heart, That she may once but feel the Woe, As I for her do undergo; Oh! make her feel this raging Pain, That for her Love I do sustain; She sure would then more gentle be, And soon repent her Cruelty; _'Tis o'er the Hills_, &c. I now must wander for her sake, Since that she will no Pity take, Into the Woods and shady Grove, And bid adieu to my false Love: Since she is false whom I adore, I ne'er will trust a Woman more, From all their Charms I'll fly away, And on my Pipe will sweetly play; _'Tis o'er the Hills_, &c. There by my self I'll sing and say, _'Tis o'er the Hills, and far away_, That my poor Heart is gone astray, Which makes me grieve both Night and Day; Farewel, farewel, thou cruel she, I fear that I shall die for thee: But if I live, this Vow I'll make, To love no other for your sake. _'Tis o'er the Hills, and far away,_ _'Tis o'er the Hills, and far away,_ _'Tis o'er the Hills, and far away,_ _The Wind has blown my Plad away._ The Recruiting Officer: _Or_, The Merry Volunteers: _Being an Excellent New Copy of Verses upon raising Recruits._ _To the foregoing Tune._ Hark! now the Drums beat up again, For all true Soldiers Gentlemen, Then let us list, and march I say, Over the Hills and far away; Over the Hills and o'er the Main, To _Flanders_, _Portugal_ and _Spain_, Queen _Ann_ commands, and we'll obey, _Over the Hills and far away_. All Gentlemen that have a Mind, To serve the Queen that's good and kind; Come list and enter into Pay, Then o'er the Hills and far away; _Over the Hills_, &c. Here's Forty Shillings on the Drum, For those that Volunteers do come, With Shirts, and Cloaths, and present Pay, When o'er the Hills and far away; _Over the Hills_, &c. Hear that brave Boys, and let us go, Or else we shall be prest you know; Then list and enter into Pay, And o'er the Hills and far away, _Over the Hills_, &c.