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MOLLY MOG,

OR THE FAIR MAID OF THE INN,

JOHN GAY.

Says my uncle, “ I pray you discover

What hath been the cause of your woes, That you pine and you whine like a lover?"

I have seen Molly Mog of the Rose.' O nephew! your grief is but folly,

In Town you may find better prog; Half-a-crown there will get you a Molly,

A Molly much better than Mog.'

'I know that by wits 'tis recited

That women at best are a clog ; But I'm not so easily frighted

From loving of sweet Molly Mog.

* The schoolboy's desire is a play-day,

The schoolmaster's joy is to flog ;
The milk-maid's delight is on May-day,

But mine is on sweet Molly Mog.

Will-a-Wisp leads the traveller gadding

Through ditch, and thro' quagmire, and bog; But no light can set me a madding

Like the eyes of my sweet Molly Mog.

• For guineas in other men's breeches

Your gamesters' will palm and will cog; But I envy them none of their riches,

So I may win sweet Molly Mog.

• The heart when half wounded is changing,

It here and there leaps like a frog ; But my heart can never be ranging,

'Tis so fix'd upon sweet Molly Mog.

• Who follows all ladies of pleasure,

In pleasure is thought but a hog;
All the sex cannot give so good measure

Of joys as my sweet Molly Mog.

• I feel I'm in love to distraction,

My senses all lost in a fog,
And nothing can give satisfaction

But thinking of sweet Molly Mog.

• A letter when I am inditing,

Comes Cupid and gives me a jog, And I fill all the paper with writing

Of nothing but sweet Molly Mog.

• If I would not give up the three graces,

I wish I were hang'd like a dog,
And at court all the drawing-room faces,

For a glance of my sweet Molly Mog.

• Those faces want nature and spirit,

And seem as cut out of a log ; Juno, Venus, and Pallas's merit

Unite in my sweet Molly Mog.

· Those who toast all the family royal,

In bumpers of Hogan and Nog,
Have hearts not more true or more loyal

Than mine to my sweet Molly Mog.

Were Virgil alive with his Phillis,

And writing another eclogue,
Both his Phillis and fair Amaryllis

He'd give up for sweet Molly Mog.

• When she smiles on each guest, like her liquor,

Then jealousy sets me agog ;
To be sure she's a bit for the vicar,

And so I shall lose Molly Mog.'

[This clever and witty ballad, though of great length, is very frequently sung; it was written on an innkeeper's daughter at Oakingham in Berkshire, a celebrated beauty and toast,]

YOUTH'S THE SEASON MADE FOR JOYS.

JOHN GAY.

Youth's the season made for joys,

Love is then our duty,
She alone, who that employs
Well deserves her beauty.

Let's be gay

While we may,
Beauty's a flower despis'd in decay.

Let us drink and sport to-day,

Ours is not to-morrow;
Love with youth flies swift away,
Age is nought but sorrow,

Dance and sing,

Time's on the wing,
Life never knows the return of spring.

(From the " Beggar's Opera."]

GO, ROSE.

JOHN GAY.

Go, rose, my Chloe's bosom grace;

How happy should I prove,
Might I supply that envied place

With never fading love;
There, Phænix-like, beneath her eye
Involv’d in fragrance, burn and die !
Know hapless flower, that thou shalt find

More fragrant roses there;
I see thy withering lead reclin'd

With envy and despair.
One common fate we both must prove,
You die with envy, I with love.

[From the fable of “ The Poet and the Rose,” thus introduced :

As in the cool of early day
A poet sought the sweets of May,
The garden's fragrant breath ascends,
And every stalk with odour bends :

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All in the Downs the fleet was moor’d,

The streamers waving in the wind, When black-ey'd Susan came on board,

*Oh! where shall I my true love find ? * Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, 'If my sweet William sail among the crew.' William, then high upon the yard,

Rock'd with the billows to and fro,
Soon as her well-known voice he heard,

He sigh’d, and cast his eyes below;
The cord slides quickly through his glowing hands,
And (quick as lightning) on the deck he stands.
So the sweet lark high pois’d in air,

Shuts close his pinions to his breast,
(If chance his mate's shrill call he hear,)

And drops at once into her nest.
The noblest captain in the British feet
Might envy William's lips those kisses sweet.

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