You shall never, Me from her sever, Since that my _CÊlia_ has thrown by her Scorn: Then forbear, To come so near, For I from _CÊlia_ can never be torn. _The Country_ FARMER'S _Campaign_: _By the Author of_ Banter'd and Bubbl'd, _&c._ [Music] Oh _Roger_ I've been to see _Eugene_, By _Villars_ over-reach'd; And that _Dutch_ Earl, great _Albermarle_, So foolishly Detach'd: For _Phil_ of _Spain_, saw _Doway_ tain, And _Quesnoy_ close beset; Saw _Frenchmen_ grin, at Count _Rechstrin_, And _Dutchmen_ in a Sweat. With both my Eyes _Auxiliaries_, I saw desert our Cause; Old _Zinzendorf_ did buy 'em off, But never stopp'd their Maws: Whilst ORMOND he most orderly, Did march them towards _Ghent_; The _German_ Dogs, with great _Dutch_ Hogs, Their towns against him Pent. Were not we mad to spend our Blood, And weighty Treasure so; Do they deserve, that we should serve, Adad we'll make them know: They'll be afraid, of Peace and Trade, And downfal of the WHIGS; Our glorious ANN, with _France_ and _Spain_, Will dance then many a Jigg. If they have a mind, 'fore Peace be Sign'd, To own Great ANNA'S Power; Such Terms she'll get, as she thinks fit, And they shall have no more: Great _Oxford's_ Earl, that weighty Pearl, And Minister of State: With _Bollingbrook_, I swear adzooks, Old _England_ will be great. We Farmers then, shall be fine Men, And Money have good store; Their WHIGISH Tax they'll have with a Pox, When Monarchy's no more: My Son I'm sure, will ne'er endure, To pay their plaguy Funds; 'Tis with reproach, they ride in Coach, It makes me mad Ads-- For twenty Years, with Popish fears, We have been Banter'd much; With Liberty, and Property, And our very good Friends the _Dutch_: But now I hope, our Eyes are ope, And _France_ is more Sincere; Then _Emperor_ with all his stir, _Or Dounders Divil myn Heir._ STRAWBERY. [Music] Of all the handsome Ladies, Of whom the Town do talk; Who do frequent the _Opera's_, And in the Park do walk: The many lovely Beauties, There are who do excel; Yet my _Strawbery_, my _Strawbery_, Does bear away the Bell. Some cry up Madam _Mar----_ For this thing and for that; And some her Grace of _Sh----_ Tho' she grows something fat: And tho' I love her _Ma----_ And all her Ladies well, Yet my _Strawbery_, &c. The Kit Cat and the Toasters, Did never care a Fig; For any other Beauty, Besides the little WHIG: But for all that Sir _Harry_, That witty Knight can tell, 'Tis my _Strawbery_, &c. The red Coats think the _Ch----ls_, The Fairest in the Land; Because the D. their Father, The Ar----y does Command: But the noble D. of _B----_ Who does all Dukes excel, Says my _Strawbery_, &c. Tune, _Now the Fight's done_.