Song VII. the Generous Lover

I LIKE each girl, that I come near, Tho' none I love but Mary; Oh! she's my darling, only dear, Bewitching little fairy. I ask'd a kiss, and she look'd down, Her cheeks are spread with blushes; 'By Jove,' says I, 'I'll take the town,' Me back she gently pushes— I like each girl, &c.

When off 'twas blown, and 'twas my place To fly for Mary's bonnet, So charming look'd her lovely face There I stood gazing on it: Dress'd all in white she tripp'd from home, And set my blood a thrilling, 'O, zounds!' says I, 'the French are come,' Sweet Mary look'd so killing. I like each girl, &c.

When to our Colonel at review, A Duchess cry'd, so airy, 'How does your Royal Highness do?' Says I, 'I thank you, Mary:' To quick time marching t'other day, Our fifes play'd Andrew Carey, To ev'ry girl I gave the way, In compliment to Mary.