Hunting Songs. &c, SONG

Great news, great news, great news, Great news, great news, great news, Great news, I'm hither sent, 'Mongst mortals to declare, What pass'd in Hymea's parliament, When Cupid took the chair. They made the wisest best decree, You've know in all your lives; Old maids shall blest with husbands be, And bachelors with wives; To bachelors what rare news, And all your tabby host, Who may the tidings glad peruse, In Hymen's Evening Post. To bachelors what rare news, And all your tabby host, Who may the tidings glad peruse, In Hymen's Evening Post. Great news, great news, In Hymen's Evening Post, In Hymen's Evening Post, Great news, great news.

By ev'ry bachelor for life, A duty must be paid, Refusing to take for wife, And antiquated maid: Poor soul how great must be her joy, Who such a lot escapes, No more with pug or puss to toy, And freed from leading apes. What wonderful surprising news, For all your tabby host, Who may the tidings glad peruse, In Hymen's Evening Post. Great news, &c.

A bachelor moreover is A poor unhappy elf, Who void of all domestic bliss Lays snoting by himself; He need not now to cheer his mind, In search of gossip roam, For fure as fate he'll always find Enough of that at home. For bachelors what pleasing news, And all your tabby host, Who may the tidings glad peruse, In Hymen's Evening Post. Great news, &c.