He swore he was a Gentleman, Well landed in the Country: And liv'd in Reputation there, His Name Sir _Rowland Humphry_. The Widow did believe him then, And Love unto him granted; Thus he her Favour did obtain, Welchmen will not be daunted. By cunning tricks he quite put down, The Slow-men of _London_: That came to Woo this Widow _Brown_, Because they would be undone. The Welchman ply'd her Night and Day, Till to his Bow he brought her; And bore away the Widow quite, From all that ever sought her: She thought to be a Lady gay, But she was sore deceiv'd: Thus the Welchman did put down, The Slow-men of _London_: For they would Wooe the Widow _Brown_, Because they would be undone. Thus she was fitted in her kind, For all her former Knavery; The Welchman did deceive her Mind, And took down all her Bravery: It had been better she had ta'en, The Weaver, Smith, or Taylor; For when she sought for State and Pomp, The Welchman quite did fail her: Then learn you Young Men of this Town, You Slow-men of _London_: Which way to take the Widow _Brown_, For least you all be undone. _The ROYAL Example. By Mr._ Henry Purcell. [Music] May her blest Example chace Vice, in Troops out of the Land; Flying from her awful Face, Like trembling Ghost when Day's at Hand: May her Hero bring us Peace, Won with Honour in the Field: And our Home-bred Factions cease, He still our Sword, and she our Shield. _The ROYAL Triumph of_ BRITAIN'S _Monarch_. [Music] New Pyramid's raise, Bring the Poplar and Bayes, To Crown our Triumphant Commander; The _French_ too shall run, As the _Irish_ have done, Like the _Persians_, the _Persians_; Like the _Persians_, the _Persians_, Like the _Persians_ before _Alexander_. Had the _Rubicon_ been, Such a Stream as the _Boyn_, Not _CÊsar_, not _CÊser_ himself had gone on: King _William_ exceeds, great _CÊsar_ in Deeds, More than he did, more than he did, More than he did, great _Pompey_ before. Tho' born in a State, Fore-told was his Fate, That he should be a Monarch ador'd: One Globe was too small, To contain such a Soul, New Worlds must submit to his Sword. So Great and Benign, Is our Sov'reign Queen, Made to share his Empire and Bed; May she still fill his Arms, With her lovely soft Charms, And a Race of King _William's_ succeed. _The Jolly_ BROOM-MAN: _Or, the unhappy BOY turn'd Thrifty._ [Music] There was an Old Man, and he liv'd in a Wood, and his Trade it was making of Broom, And he had a naughty Boy, _Jack_ to his Son, and he lay in Bed till 'twas Noon, 'twas Noon, and he lay in Bed till 'twas Noon.