EDWIN'S PILLS, &c, SONG

Don't shill-I, shall-I, Nor with love rally, Wilt be my wife? If thou'rt but willing, With thee each shilling I'll share through life. With tippling and rattling, And smiling babes prattling, Like mamma pretty, Like daddy witty, Heart light as feather, We'll trip together, From vil to city.

My heart so jolly, From melancholy Is always free. Sweet recreation, Without vexation, I'll find for thee; Coats, caps, and fine kirtles, With pofies and myrtles, And gowns so gay. At wakes you'll foot it, Skip, reel, and cut it, Spruce Queen of May.

Then make me happy With stingo nappy, I'll chear your mind. Alas with gazing, My poor heart's blazing; Your hand—be kind. I'm burning to cinder; My wishes like tinder, The spark of your eyes— Now kindles sire in; O with desiring, Your true love dies.