When kind friends expect a song

When kind friends expect a song Something new and striking; Surely he can ne'er be wrong, Who gives each his liking.

Patriots like to get a place, The courtiers theirs to keep; Country 'squires to drink and chase, And cits to eat and sleep.

Parsons like a bishopric, Gamblers like to bubble: Doctors like to see friends sick, Lawyers theirs in trouble.

Soldiers like both peace and pay, When fighting is no more; Sailors like a road to stray, For gold to wash ashore.

Ruddy bullies like to bluster, Pale beaux to seem polite; Train-band Captains like a muster, But neither like to fight.

Ladies like—a thousand things, But yet it were not well; He who for his pleasure sings, Should all their likings tell.