No _Phillis_, tho' you've all the Charms, Ambitious Woman can desire; All Beauty, Wit, and Youth that warms, Or sets our foolish Hearts on fire: Yet you may practice all your Arts, In vain to make a Slave of me; You ne'er shall re-engage my Heart, Revolted from your Tyranny: _You ne'er shall re-engage my Heart,_ _Revolted from your Tyranny._ When first I saw those dang'rous Eyes, They did my Liberty betray; But when I knew your Cruelties, I snatch'd my simple Heart away: Now I defy your Smiles to win, My resolute Heart, no pow'r th'ave got; Tho' once I suck'd their Poyson in, Your Rigour prov'd an Antidote. _The Epilogue to the_ Island Princes, _Set by Mr._ Clark, _Sung by Mrs._ Lindsey, _and the Boy._ [Music] Now to you ye dry Wooers, Old Beaus, and no doers, So doughty, so gouty, So useless and toothless, Your blindless, cold kindness, Has nothing of Man; Still doating, or gloating, Still stumbling, or fumbling, Still hawking, still baulking, You flash in the Pan: Unfit like old Brooms, For sweeping our Rooms, You're sunk and you're shrunk, Then repent and look to't; In vain you're so upish, in vain you're so upish. You're down ev'ry foot. _A_ Scotch SONG, _Set by Mr._ R. BROWN. [Music] _Jockey_ loves his _Moggy_ dearly, He gang'd with her to _Perth_ Fair; There we Sung and Pip'd together, And when done, then down I'd lay her: I so pull'd her, and so lull'd her, Both o'erwhelm'd with muckle Joy; _Mog._ kiss'd _Jockey_, _Jockey_ _Moggy_, From long Night to break of Day. I told _Mog._ 'twas muckle pleasing, _Moggey_ cry'd she'd do again such; I reply'd I'd glad gang with thee, But 'twould wast my muckle Coyn much: She lamented, I relented, Both wish'd Bodies might increase; Then we'd gang next Year together, And my Pipe shall never cease. _A_ SONG, _in the_ Lucky Younger Brother, _or, the_ Beau Defeated; _Set by Mr._ John Eccles, _and Sung by Mr._ BOWMAN. [Music] _Delia_ tir'd _Strephon_ with her Flame, While languishing, while languishing she view'd him; The well dress'd Youth despis'd the Dame, But still, still; but still the old Fool pursu'd him: Some pity on a Wretch bestow, That lyes at your Devotion; Perhaps near fifty Years ago, Perhaps near fifty Years ago, I might have lik'd the Motion. If you, proud Youth, my Flame despise, I'll hang me in my Garters; Why then make hast to win the Prize, Among loves foolish Martyrs: Can you see _Delia_ brought so low, And make her no Requitals? _Delia_ may to the Devil go, _Delia_ may to the Devil, Devil go, to the Devil, Devil, Devil, Devil, Devil, Devil go for _Strephon_; Stop my Vitals, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop my Vitals. _A_ SONG, _Set by Mr._ John Weldon. [Music] Swain thy hopeless Passion smother, Perjur'd _Caelia_ loves another; In his Arms I saw her lying, Panting, Kissing, Trembling, Dying: There the Fair deceiver swore, As once she did to you before.