The Constables they search about, To find such brisk young Fellows out; Then let's be Volunteers I say, Over the Hills and far away; _Over the Hills_, &c. Since now the _French_ so low are brought, And Wealth and Honour's to be got, Who then behind wou'd sneaking stay? When o'er the Hills and far away; _Over the Hills_, &c. No more from sound of Drum retreat, While _Marlborough_, and _Gallaway_ beat, The _French_ and _Spaniards_ every Day, When over the Hills and far away; _Over the Hills_, &c. He that is forc'd to go and fight, Will never get true Honour by't, While Volunteers shall win the Day, When o'er the Hills and far away; _Over the Hills_, &c. What tho' our Friends our Absence mourn, We all with Honour shall return; And then we'll sing both Night and Day, Over the Hills and far away; _Over the Hills_, &c. The Prentice _Tom_ he may refuse, To wipe his angry Master's Shoes; For then he's free to sing and play, Over the Hills and far away; _Over the Hills_, &c. Over Rivers, Bogs, and Springs, We all shall live as great as Kings, And Plunder get both Night and Day, When over the Hills and far away, _Over the Hills_, &c. We then shall lead more happy Lives, By getting rid of Brats and Wives, That Scold on both Night and Day, When o'er the Hills and far away: _Over the Hills_, &c. Come on then Boys and you shall see, We every one shall Captains be, To Whore and rant as well as they, When o'er the Hills and far away: _Over the Hills_, &c. For if we go 'tis one to Ten, But we return all Gentlemen, All Gentlemen as well as they, When o'er the Hills and far away: _Over the Hills_, &c. _A_ Scotch SONG. _Set by Mr._ JOHN BARRETT. [Music] Ah! foolish Lass, what mun I do? My Modesty I well may rue, Which of my Joy bereft me; For full of Love he came, But out of silly shame, With pish and phoo I play'd, To muckle the coy Maid, And the raw young Loon has left me. Wou'd _Jockey_ knew how muckle I lue, Did I less Art, or did he shew, More Nature, how bleast I'd be; I'd not have reason to complain, That I lue'd now in vain, Gen he more a Man was, I'd be less a coy Lass, Had the raw young Loon weel try'd me. _A_ SONG _in the Comedy call'd_ Justice Buisy, _or the_ Gentleman Quack: _Set by Mr._ John Eccles, _Sung by Mrs._ Bracegirdle. [Music] No, no ev'ry Morning my Beauties renew, Where-ever I go, I have Lovers enough; I Dress and I Dance, and I Laugh and I Sing, Am lovely and lively, and gay as the Spring: I Visit, I Game, and I cast away Care, Mind Lovers no more, than the Birds of the Air, Mind Lovers no more, than the Birds of the Air. _A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ WILLIS. [Music]