DID you not hear of a gallant Sailor,
Whose Pockets they were lin’d with Gold;
He fell in Love with a pretty Creature,
As I to you the Truth unfold:
With a kind Salute, and without Dispute,
He thought to gain her for his own,
Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,
She has gone and left me all alone.
Don’t you remember my pretty Peggy,
The Oaths and Vows which you made to me:
All in the Chamber we were together,
That you would ne’er unconstant be:
But you prove strange Love, and from me range,
And leave me here to Sigh and Moan;
Unconstant Woman is true to no Man,
She’s gone and left me all alone.
As I have Gold you shall have Treasure,
Or any dainty kind of thing;
Thou may’st command all Delights and Pleasure,
And what you’d have, Love, I would you bring:
But you prove shy, and at last deny,
Him that admires you alone;
Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,
She’s left me here to make my moan.
When first I saw your charming Beauty,
I stood like one all in amaze;
I study’d only how to pay Duty,
And could not speak but only gaze,
At last said I, fair Maid comply,
And ease a wretched Lover’s Moan;
Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,
She’s gone and left me here alone.
I made her Presents of Rings and Jewels,
With Diamond Stones I gave her too;
She took them kindly, and call’d me Jewel,
And said her Love to me was true:
But in the end she prov’d unkind,
When I thought she had been my own;
Unconstant Woman, &c.
For three Months time we saw each other,
And she oft said she’d be my Wife;
I had her Father’s Consent and Mother,
I thought to have liv’d a happy Life:
She’d laugh and toy both Night and Day,
But at length she chang’d her Tone;
Unconstant Woman, proves true to no Man,
She’s left me now to make my Moan.
Many a time we have walk’d together,
Both Hand in Hand to an Arbour green;
Where Tales of Love in Sun-shiny Weather,
We did discourse and were not seen:
With a kind Salute we did dispute,
While we together were alone:
Unconstant Woman she’s true to no Man,
She’s gone and left me here alone.
Since Peggy has my kindness slighted,
I’ll never trust a Woman more;
’Twas in her alone I e’er delighted,
But since she’s false I’ll leave the Shoar:
In Ship I’ll enter, on Seas I’ll venture,
And sail the World where I’m not known:
Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,
She’s gone and left me here alone.
Sorrow banish’d in a Mug. The Words
by Sir Edward Morgan.
[[Listen]]
IF Sorrow the Tyrant invade thy Breast,
Haul out the foul Fiend by the Lug, the Lug,
Let nought of to morrow disturb thy Rest,
But dash out his Brains with a Mug, a Mug.
If Business unluckily goes not well,
Let the fond Fools their Affections hug,
To shew our Allegiance we’ll go to the Bell,
And banish Despair in a Mug, a Mug.
If thy Wife proves not one of the Best, the Best,
But admits no time but to think, to think;
Or the weight of thy Forehead bow down thy Crest,
Divert the dull Damon with Drink, with Drink,
If Miss prove peevish and will not gee,
Ne’er pine, ne’er pine at the wanton Pug,
But find out a fairer, a kinder than she,
And banish Dispair in a Mug, a Mug.
If dear Assignation be crost, be crost,
And Mistress go home in a rage, a rage;
Let not thy poor Heart like a Ship be tost,
But with a brisk Brimmer engage, engage:
What if the fine Fop and the Mask fall out.
And the one Hug, and t’other Tug,
While they pish and fie, we will frolick in Stout,
And banish all Care in a Mug, a Mug.
If toying young Damon by Sylvia’s Charms,
At length should look pale and perplexed be;
To cure the Distemper and ease those harms,
Go straight to the Globe and ask Number three:
There beauties like Venus thou canst not lack,
Be kind to them, they will sweetly hug;
There’s choice of the Fairest, the Brown or the Black.
Then banish Despair in a Mug, a Mug.
Let then no Misfortune e’er make thee dull,
But drink away care in a Jug, a Jug;
Then let not thy Tide steal away, but pull,
Carouse away though in a Mug, a Mug:
While others for Greatness and Fortune’s doom,
While they for their Ambition tug;
We’ll sit close and snug in a Sea-coal Room,
And banish Despair in a Mug, a Mug.
Let Zealots o’er Coffee new Plots devise,
And lace with fresh Treason the Pagan Drug;
Whilst our Loyal Blood flows our Veins shall shine,
Like our Faces inspir’d with a Mug, a Mug:
Let Sectaries dream of Alarms, Alarms,
And Fools still for new changes tug;
While fam’d for our Loyalty we’ll stand to our Arms,
And drink the King’s Health in a Mug, a Mug.
Come then to the Queen let the next Advance,
And all Loyal Lads of true English Race;
Who hate the stum Poison of Spain and France,
Or to Bourdeux or Burgundy do give place;
The Flask and the Bottle breeds Ach and Gout,
Whilst we, we all the Season lie snug;
Neither Spaniard nor Flemming, can vie with our Stout,
And shall submit to the Mug, the Mug.
