_A_ SONG, _the Words and Tune by Mr._ Witt Green. [Music] Never sigh, but think of kissing, More, and more, and more of Wishing; To possess the mighty Blessing, While they enjoy it they are true, They'll hug, they'll cling, and heave up too, But Liberty when once regain'd, The Favour's to another feign'd. Why should we then the Sex admire, For 'twas never their desire, To maintain a constant Fire; If oagling, wheedling you'll believe, They'll hourly study to deceive, But we will find out better ways, In Musick, Singing, spend our Days. _The LOYAL Delights of a Contented Mind. The Words by Mr._ Mumford, _Set by Mr._ H. Purcell. [Music] Oh how Happy's he, who from Business free, Can Enjoy his Mistress, Bottle, and his Friend: Not confin'd to State, nor the Pride of the Great; Only on himself, not others doth depend: Change can never vex him, Faction ne'er perplex him; If the World goes well, a Bumper crowns his Joys, If it be not so than he takes of two; Till succeeding Glasses, Thinking doth destroy. When his Noddle reels, he to _CÊlia_ steals; And by Pleasures unconfin'd runs o'er the Night; In the Morning wakes, a pleasing Farewel takes, Ready for fresh Tipling, and for new Delight: When his Table's full, oh, then he hugs his Soul; And drinking all their Healths, a Welcome doth express: When the Cloth's removed, then by all approv'd, Comes the full grace Cup, Queen _Anna's_ good success. _A_ RIDDLE. [Music] There is a Thing which in the light Is seldom us'd, but in the Night, It serves the Maiden Female crew, The Ladies, and the good Wives too: They us'd to take it in their Hand, And then it will uprightly stand; And to a Hole they it apply, Where by it's good will it could Dye: It wasts, goes out, and still within, It leaves it's Moisture thick and thin. _On a_ LADY _Drinking the Waters, The Words by Sir_ GEORGE ETHERIGE. _Set by Mr._ JAMES HART. [Music] _Phillis_ lay aside your Thinking, Youth and Beauty shou'd be Gay, Laugh and talk, and mind your Drinking: Whilst we pass the Time away, Laugh and talk, and mind your Drinking, Whilst we pass the Time away. They ought only to be pensive, Who dare not their Grief declare, Lest their story be offensive, But still languish in Despair, Lest their, _&c._ Yet what more torments your Lovers, They are Jealous, they obey, One whose Restless Minds discovers, She's no less a Slave than they, One whose, _&c._ _The Lascivious Lover and the coy Lass._ [Music] Pish fye, you're rude Sir, I never saw such idle fooling; You're grown so lewd Sir, So debauch'd I hate your ways; Leave, what are you doing? I see you seek my ruin, I'll cry out, pray make no delay, But take your Hand away; Ah! good Sir, pray Sir, don't you do so, Never was I thus abus'd so, By any Man, but you alone, Therefore Sir, pray begone.