Two excellent New SONGS.
I. A new Love Song.
II. Newcastle Ale.
A New Love SONG.
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DOwn in yon Meadow fresh and gay,
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Picking of Flowers the other Day,
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Picking of Lillies red and blue:
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I little thought what Love could do.
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Where Love is planted there it grows,
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It buds and blossoms much like a Rose;
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It has a sweet and pleasant smell,
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No Flower on earth can it excel.
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Must I be bound, must she be free,
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Must I love one that loves not me;
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If I should act such a childish Part,
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To love a Girl that would break my Heart.
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If there are thousands, thousands in a Room
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My Love she carries the brightest Bloom;
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Sure she is some chosen one,
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I will have her, or Ill have none.
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I saw a Ship sailing on the Deep,
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She saild as deep as she could swim;
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But not so deep as in Love I am,
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I care not whether it sink or swim.
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I set my Back against an Oak,
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I thought it was a trusty Tree,
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But first it bent and then it broke,
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So did my false Love to me.
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I put my Hand into the Bush,
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Thinking the sweetest Rose to find,
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I prickd my Fingers to the Bone,
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And left the sweetest Rose behind.
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If Roses be such prickly Flowers,
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They must be gatherd while theyre green,
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And he that loves an unkind Lover,
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Im sure he strives against the stream.
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When my Love is dead and at an end,
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Ill think of her whom I love best,
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Ill rap her up Linning strong,
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And think on her when shes dead and gone.
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Newcastle ALE, Tune Lillabolero.
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FAIR Venus, the Goddess of Beauty and Love,
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Arose from the Froth that swam on the Sea;
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Minerva leapd out of the Cranium of Jove,
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A coy sullen Slut as most Authors agree:
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Bold Bacchus, they tell us, the Prince of good Fellows,
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Was his natural Son, but attend to my Tale!
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For they that thus chatter mistake quite the Matter,
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He sprung from a Barrel of Newcastle Ale.
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Newcastle Ale, Boys; Newcastle Ale,
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No Liquor on Earth is like Newcastle Ale.
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Then having surveyd well the Cask whence he sprung,
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And finding it empty, disconsolate grew;
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He mounted a stride, set his A----e on the Bung;
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And away to the Gods and the Goddesses flew;
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But when he lookd down, and saw the fair Town
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To pay him due Honours not likely to fail;
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He swore, on all Earth, that the Place of his Birth
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Was the best, and no Liquor like Newcastle Ale,
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Newcastle Ale, Boys, etc.
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Ye Doctors, who more Execution have done
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With Bolus and Potion, and Powder and Pill,
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Than Hangmen with Halter, and Soldier with Gun,
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Or Miser with Famine, or Lawyer with Quill,
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To dispatch us the quicker, you forbid us Malt Liquor,
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Till our Bodies grow thin, and our Faces look pale;
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Observe them who pleases, what cures all Diseases
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Is a comforting Dose of good Newcastle Ale.
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Newcastle Ale, Boys, etc.
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Ye Bishops and Deacons Priests, Curates, and Vicars,
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Come taste, and youll certainly find it is true,
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That Newcastle Ale is the best of all Liquors,
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And who understand the good Creature like you?
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It dispels evry Vapour, saves Pen, Ink and Paper;
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For when youre disposd from the Pulpit to rail,
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It will open your Throats, you may preach without Notes
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When inspird with full Bumpers of Newcastle Ale.
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Newcastle Ale, Boys, etc.
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Let each Lover that talks of Flames, Darts and Daggers,
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With Newcastle Ale ply his Mistress but hard;
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The Lass that once tastes it will drink till she staggers,
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And all his past Service and Suffrings reward:
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He may turn her, and twist her, and do what he lists, Sir,
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Engage her but briskly he soon must prevail;
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Fill, fill the Glass often, for nothing can soften
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The Heart of a Woman like Newcastle Ale.
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Newcastle Ale, Boys; Newcastle Ale,
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No Liquor on Earth is like Newcastle Ale.
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