The Weekly amusement: or, The universal magazine, Volume 1

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J. and T. Dormer, 1735

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Page 332 - Why did you promise love to me, And not that promise keep? Why did you swear my eyes were bright, Yet leave those eyes to weep? " How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break?
Page 123 - How can they say that nature Has nothing made in vain ; Why then, beneath the water, Should hideous rocks remain ? No eyes the rocks discover That lurk beneath the deep, To wreck the wandering lover, And leave the maid to weep.
Page 123 - But what's the loss of treasure, To losing of my dear ? Should you some coast be laid on, Where gold and diamonds grow, You'd find a richer maiden, But none that loves you so.
Page 98 - twas a pleasure too great ; I listen'd, and cried when she sung, Was nightingale ever so sweet ! How foolish was I to believe, She could dote on so lowly a clown, Or that her fond heart would not grieve To forsake the fine folk of the town ; To think that a beauty so gay So kind and so constant would prove, Or go clad, like our maidens, in...
Page 378 - twas music to hear : But now she is absent I walk by its side, And still as it murmurs do nothing but chide ; Must you be so cheerful while I go in pain ? Peace there with your bubbling, and hear me complain.
Page 122 - GENTLY stir, and blow the fire, Lay the mutton down to roast ; Dress it quickly, I desire, In the dripping put a toast, That I hunger may remove ; Mutton is the meat I love. On the dresser see it lie, Oh ! the charming white and red ! Finer meat ne'er met my eye, On the sweetest grass it fed : Let the jack go swiftly round, Let me have it nicely brown'd.
Page 252 - Says my Uncle, I pray you discover What hath been the Cause of your Woes, Why you pine, and you whine, like a Lover? I have seen Molly Mog of the Rose.
Page 252 - If I would not give up the three Graces, I wish I were hang'd like a dog, And at court all the drawingroom faces, For a glance of my sweet Molly Mog.
Page 123 - T'WAS when the feas were roaring A With hollow blafts of wind, A damfel lay deploring, All on a rock reclin'd. Wide o'er the roaring billows She caft a wifhful look ; Her head was crown'd with willows, That trembled o'er the brook. Twelve months were gone and over, And nine long tedious days ; Why didft thou, vent'rous lover, Why didft thou truft the feas ? Ceafe, ceafe...
Page 153 - We were undone when we left you. With a fa, la, &c. But now our fears tempestuous grow, And cast our hopes away ; Whilst you, regardless of our woe, Sit careless at a play ; Perhaps permit some happier man To kiss your hand, or flirt your fan. With a fa, la, &c.

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