Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/229

 Our Funds are wanting, our Credit decays, The French are publickly Arming; And for all the daily noise is of Peace, It never comes to confirming.

But we that Breath in a Fragrant Air, From News, Street noise, and such Howling; Our innocent Pleasures each Day prepare, With Fishing, and Shooting, and Bowling.

Some Mornings early we Hunt a Hare, Who Life to Pleasure us looses; Or else if the Weather proves not fair, At home we Regale on the Muses.

The charming Raptures of Beauty and Love, Sweet Cloris freely affords too; When we meet each Evening in a lone Grove, And sing and bill as the Birds do.

She feeds on Jessamin, and spring Nectar drinks, Whilst she we call a Town Madam; Is infected still with a foul Suburb stinks, And Damns her self in old Sodom.