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ONE DENIAL,

WHAT! put off with one denial,
And not make a second trial ?
You might see my eyes consenting,
All about me was relenting ;
Women, obliged to dwell in forms,
Forgive the youth that boldly storms.
Lovers, when you sigh and languish,
When you tell us of your anguish,
To the nymph you'll be more pleasing
When those sorrows you are easing:
We love to try how far men dare,
And never wish the foe should spare.

AN ECHO SONG. “IF I address the Echo yonder What will its answer be, I wonder ?”

“I wonder !”

“Oh wondrous Echo! Tell me, bless 'ee, Am I for marriage or celibacy?”

Silly Bessy!"

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“If then to win the maid I try, Shall I find her a property?”

“A proper tie!" “If neither being grave nor funny, Will win this maid to matrimony?"

“Try money!”

“If I should try to gain her heart, Shall I go plain, or rather smart?”

“Smart !"

“She mayn't love dress, and I again, then, May come too smart, and she'll complain then.”

“Come plain then.”

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“ Then if to marry me I teaze her,
What will she say if that should please her?

Please, sir !" " When cross nor good words can appease her, What if such naughty whims should seize her?”

“You'd see, sir!”

“When wed, she'll change, for Love's no sticker, And love her husband less than liquor!"

“Then lick her!" " To leave me then I can't compel her, Though every woman else excel her!”

“Sell her!'

CHLOE AND CÆLIA.

CHLOE brisk and gay appears,

On purpose to invite;
Yet, when I press her, she, in tears,

Denies her sole delight:

Whilst Cælia, seeming shy and coy,

To all her favours grants,
And secretly receives that joy

Which others think she wants.

I would, but fear I never shall,

With either fair agree ;
For Calia will be kind to all,

But Chloe won't to me.

GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR.

It fell upon a Martinmas time,

And a gay time it was then,
When our goodwife got puddings to make,

And she boiled them in a pan.

The wind sae cauld blew south and north,
And blew into the floor

;
Quoth our goodman to our goodwife,

“Get up and bar the door.”

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“My hand is in my hussy's skap,

Goodman, as you may see ;.
An' it should na be barred this hundred year,

It's no be barred, for me."
They made a paction 'tween them twa,

They made it firm and sure,
That the first word whae'er should speak

Should rise and bar the door.

Then by there came twa gentlemen,

At twelve o'clock at night;
And they could neither see house nor hall,

Nor coal nor candle-light.

"Now whether is this a rich man's house?

Or whether is it a poor ?"
But ne'er a word would ane o' them speak,

For barring of the door.
And first they ate the white puddings,

And then they ate the black ;
Though muckle thought the goodwife to hersel',

Yet ne'er a word she spak.

Then said the one unto the other;

“Here man, take my knife ; Do ye tak aff the auld man's beard,

And I'll kiss the goodwife.

“ But there's nae water in the house,

And what shall we do then ? What ails you at the pudding bree

That boils into the pan?”

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Oh up then started our goodman,

An angry man was he ; " Will ye kiss my wife before my face,

And sca'd me wi' pudding bree?” Then up then started our goodwife,

Gi’ed three skips on the floor ; “Goodman, you've spoken the foremost word!

Get up and bar the door!”

NATURE AND FORTUNE.

Nature and Fortune, blithe and gay,

To pass an hour or two,
In frolic mood agreed to play

At “ What shall this man do?"

“Come, I'll be judge then,” Fortune cries,

And therefore must be blind ;" Then whipped a napkin round her eyes,

And tied it fast behind.

Nature had now prepared her list

Of names on scraps of leather ;
Which rolled, she gave them each a twist,

And hustled them together.

Thus mixed, whichever came to h and

She very surely drew;
Then bade her sister give command

For what that man should do.

'Twould almost burst one's sides to he'r

What strange commands she gave ; That Cibber should the laurel wear,

And C- -e an army have.

At length, when Stanhope's name was come,

Dame Nature smiled, and cried ; Now tell me, sister, this man's doom,

And what shall him betide."

" That man,” said Fortune, “shall be one

Blest both by you and me : “ Nay, then,” quoth Nature, “let's have done; Sister, I'm sure you see.

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AT CHURCH.

Last Sunday at St. James's prayers,

The prince and princess by,
I, dressed in all my whale-bone airs,

Sat in a closet nigh.
I bowed my knees, I held my book,

Read all the answers o'er;
But was perverted by a look

Which pierced me from the door.
High thoughts of Heaven I came to use

With the devoutest care ;
Which gay young Strephon made me lose,

And all the raptures there.
He stood to hand me to my chair,

And bowed with courtly grace ;
But whispered love into my ear,

Too warm for that grave place. "Love, love," said he, “by all adored,

My tender heart has won.'

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But I grew peevish at the word,

And bade he would be gone.
He went quite out of sight, while I

A kinder answer meant ;
Nor did I for my sins that day

By half so much repent.

KISSING

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As I went to the wake that is held on the green,
I met with young Phæbe, as blithe as a queen ;
A form so divine might an anchorite move,
And I found (though a clown) I was smitten with love :
So I asked for a kiss, but she, blushing, replied,

Indeed, gentle shepherd, you must be denied.”
“Lovely Phoebe," says I, “don't affect to be shy,
I vow I will kiss you-here's nobody by.”.
No matter for that,” she replied, “ 'tis the same;
For know, silly shepherd, I value my fame;
So
pray

let me go, I shall surely be missed; Besides, I'm resolved that I will not be kissed. “Lord bless me !" I cried, “I'm surprised you refuse ; A few harmless kisses but serve to amuse ; The month it is May, and the season for love, So come, my dear girl, to the wake let us rove. “No, Damon,” she cried, “I must first be your wife; You then shall be welcome to kiss me for Hife.” "Well, come then,” I cried, “to the church let us go, But after, dear Phæbe must never say No." Do you prove but true,” she replied, “you shall find I'll ever be constant, good-humoured, and kind." So I kiss when I please, for she ne'er says she won't ; And I kiss her so much that I wonder she don't.

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THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN.
THERE was an old woman, as I've heard tell,
She went to market her eggs for to sell ;
She went to market all on a market-day;
And she fell asleep on the king's highway.
There came by a pedlar whose name was Stout,
He cut her petticoats all round about ;
He cut her petticoats up to the knees,
Which made the old woman to shiver and freeze.

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