All the Women I view'd, Both Religious and Lewd, From the Sable Top-knots to the Scarlets; But a Wager I'll lay, That at a full Play, The House does not swarm so with Harlots. Lady _F----_ there sits, Almost out of her Wits, 'Twixt Lust and Devotion debating; She's as Vicious as Fair, And has more Business there, Than to hear Mr. _Tickle-text's_ prating. Madam _L----l_ saw, With her Daughters-in-law, Whom she offers to Sale ev'ry Sunday; In the midst of her Prayers, She'll negociate Affairs, And make Assignations for Monday. Next a Lady much Fam'd, Therefore must not be nam'd, 'Cause she'll give you no trouble in Teaching; She has a very fine Book, But does ne'er in it look, Nor regard neither Praying nor Preaching. There's a _Baronet's_ Daughter, Her own Mother taught her, By Precept and Practical Notion; That to wear Gaudy Cloaths, And to Ogle the Beaus, Was at Church two sure Signs of Devotion. From the Corner o' th' Square, Comes a hopeful young Pair, Religious as they see occasion; But if Patches and Paint, Be true signs of a Saint, We've no Reason to doubt their Damnation. When the Sermon was done, He blest ev'ry one, And they like good Christians retir'd; Tho' they view'd ev'ry Face, Each Head and each Dress, Yet each one her self most admir'd. I had view'd all the rest, But the Parson had blest, With his Benediction the People; So I ran to the Crown, Least the Church should fall down, And beat out my Brains with the Steeple. _The_ AIRY _old Woman_. [Music] You guess by my wither'd Face, And Eyes no longer Shining; That I can't Dance with a Grace, Nor keep my Pipes from whining: Yet I am still Gay and Bold, To be otherwise were a Folly; Methinks my Blood is grown Cold, I'll warm it then thus and be jolly, Jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, _&c._ Methinks my Blood is grown cold, Grown cold, grown cold, grown cold, _&c._ I'll warm it then thus and be jolly. I find by the slighting Beau's, That Nature is declining; Yet will I not knit my Brows, Nor end my Days in pining: Let other Dames Fret and Scold, As they pass to the Stygian Ferry; You see, though I am grown Old, My Temper is youthful and merry, Merry, merry, merry, merry, _&c._ You see though I am grown old, Grown old, grown old, grown old, _&c._ My Temper is youthful and merry. _A_ SONG _Set by Mr._ ANTHONY YOUNG. [Music] I Try'd in Parks and Plays to find, An Object to appease my Mind; But still in vain it does appear, Since Fair _Hyrtuilia_ is not there: In vain alass I hope for Ease, Since none but She alone can please. _A_ SONG; _the Words by Captain_ DANVERS, _Set by Mr._ T. WILLIS. [Music]