Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/108

 He. I'le Cant and I'le Pray.

She. Ah! there's nought got, ah! there's nought got that way, There's no one minds now what those black Cattle say;       Let all our whole care, be our Farming Affair, To make our Corn grow, and our Apple-Trees bear. [Verse for Two Voices.]        Ambition, Ambition's a Trade, a Trade no Contentment can show,  She. So I'le to my Distaff; He. And I to my Plough; Ambition, Ambition's a Trade, a Trade no Contentment can show, No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,       no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no Contentment can show, no, no, no Contentment can show. CHORUS. She. Let all our whole care, be our Farming Affair; To make our Corn grow and our Apple-Trees Bear:       Ambition, Ambition's a Trade, a Trade no Contentment can show.

She. So I'le to my Distaff;

He. And I'le to my Plough;

Ambition, Ambition's a Trade, a Trade no Contentment can show, No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no Contentment can show, No, no, no Contentment can show.