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A HISTORICAL ESSAY
ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF NATIONAL SONG,
BY THE LATE
JOSEPH RITSON, Esq.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
THE SECOND EDITION,
ADDITIONAL SONGS AND OCCASIONAL NOTES.
By THOMAS PARK, F. S. A.
PRINTED FOR F. c. and J. RIVINGTON; LONGMAN, HURST, REES,
PHO! pox o'this nonsense, I prithee give o'er,
And talk of your Phyllis and Chloe no more;
Let finical fops play the fool and the ape;
'Tis wine, only wine, that true pleasure bestows; Our joys it increases, and lightens our woes; Remember what topers of old us'd to sing, 'The man that is drunk is as great as a king.'
If Cupid assaults you, there's law for his tricks ;
What's life but a frolic, a song, and a laugh?
BETTER our heads than hearts should ake,
Wine sweetens all the cares of peace,
To love's affliction it gives ease,
And to our joys does best prepare.
Better our heads than hearts should ake,
Good wine of him a slave can make,
And force a lover to be wise,
SOME say women are like the seas,
Some the waves, and some the rocks ;
Some the weather, and some the cocks:
There's nothing can be compar'd so well,
As wine, wine, women and wine, they run in a parallel.
Women are witches, when they will,
So is wine, so is wine;
They make the statesman lose his skill,
'Tis wine, wine, women and wine, they run in a parallel.
What is't that makes your visage so pale?
'Tis wine will make you sick when you're well; 'Tis women that make your forehead to swell : 'Tis wine, wine, women and wine, they run in a parallel.
THE Women all tell me I'm false to my lass,