Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/195

 [Music ]

I Hate a Fop that at his Glass Stands prinking half the Day, With a sallow frowzy olive colour'd Face, And a powder'd Peruke hanging to his Wast, Who with ogling imagines to possess, And to shew his Shape does cringe and scrape, But nothing has to say; Or if the Courtship's fine, He'll only cant and whine, And in confounded Poetry, He'll Goblins make divine; I love the bold and brave, I hate the fawning Slave, That quakes and crys, And sighs and lyes, Yet wants the Skill, With Sence to tell, What 'tis he longs to have.