HArk , hark , hark , the Storm grows loud , the day 's wrap'd up in a sullen Cloud : Hark , hark , the Tempest sings the Seamans dirge , and flings the tost up Waves to fatal show'rs ; And those that never Pray'd before , call now upon some unknown Pow'rs . Hark , hark , the tackling justle , the Seamen bustle , Crack , crack ; down goes the Main mast , down , down , down ; hark how they groan ; Hark , hark , amongst the rest , I hear some sighs like mine ; 't is from a Lover sure : Ye pow'rs Divine , calm , calm this ungentle rage , the Storm asswage , pi╌ty a Lo╌vers woe , and let kind Neptune now his Trident shew . See , it grows calm , the Storms now cease ; and all the Ocean's face shews smiles of peace .

CHeer up my Mates , the Wind doth fairly blow ; clap on more Sails , and never spare . Farewell all Lands , for now we are in the wide Sea of Drink ; and merrily , merrily , merrily we go . Bless me ! 't is hot ; another bowl of Wine , and we shall cut the burning Line : Hey boys she scudds away , and by my head I know we round the World are sailing now . What dull men are those that tarry at home , when abroad they may wantonly rome ; and gain such experience , and spy to such Countries and wonders as I do ! But prethee good Pilot , take heed what you do , and fail not to touch at PERU ; with Gold there our Vessel we 'll store , and never , never be poor , and never be poor any more .

RUn to Loves Lottery , run Maids and rejoice ; whilst seeking your chance you meet your own choice : And boast that your luck you help with design , by praying cross-legg'd to St. Va╌len╌tine . Hark , hark , a Prize is drawn , and Trumpets sound , Tan ta ra ra ra , Tan ta ra ra ra , Tan ta ra ra ra , hark Maids , more Lotts are drawn ; prizes abroad , Dub dub a dub a dub , the Drum now beats , and Dub a dub a dub Eccho repeats ; as if at night the god of War had made Loves Queen a skirmish for a Serenade . Hast , hast , fair Maids , and come away ; The Priest attends your Drag . Bridegrooms stay : Roses and Pinks will be strown where you go , whilst I walk in shades of willow , willow . When I am dead , let him that did slay me , be but so good as kindly to lay me there where neglected Lovers mourn , where Lamps and hallowed Tapers burn : Where Clerks in Quires sad Dirges sing ; where sweetly Bells at Burials ring . My rose of Youth is gone ; with'red as soon as blown : Lovers go ring my Knell , Beauty and Love farewell . And lest Virgins for╌sa╌ken should perhaps be mi╌sta╌ken in seeking my Grave ; Alas , let them know , I lye near a shade of Willow , Willow : I lye near a shade of Willow , Willow .

WHen Co╌ri╌don , a Slave , did lye entangled in his Phillis Eye ; how did he sigh , how did he groan , how melancholly was his tone ! He told his story to the Woods ; and wept his passion by the Floods : Yet Phillis , cruel Phillis , too to blame , regarded nor his suff'rings , nor his Flame . Then Co╌ri╌don re╌solv'd no more his Mi╌stress mer╌cy to implore ; How did he laugh , how did he sing , how did he make the Forrest ring ! He told his Conquest to the Woods ; And drown his passion in the Floods : Then Phillis , cru╌el Phillis , less severe , would have had him ; but he would none of her .

I Pass all my hours in a shady old Grove , but I live not the day when I see not my Love : I survey ev'ry walk now my Phillis is gone , and sigh when I think we were there all a╌lone : Oh then ' t is ! Oh then ! that I think there 's no Hell , like Loving , like Loving too well .

O Love ! if e're thou 'lt ease a Heart that owns thy pow'r di╌vine , and bleeds with thy too cru╌el dart , and pants with never ceasing smart ; take pi╌ty now on mine . Under thy shades I fainting lye ; a thousand times I wish to dye : But when I find cold death too nigh , I grieve to lose my pleasing pain , and call my wishes back again .

THus all our lives long we 're frolick a●d gay ; and instead of Court Revels , we me╌ri╌ly play at Trap and at Kettles , at Barly-break run , at Goff and at Stool-ball ; and when we have done these in╌no╌cent Sports , we laugh and lie down , and to each pret╌ty Lass we give a green Gown .

A Lover I 'm Born , and a Lover I 'le be ; and hope from my Love I shall ne╌ver be free . Let wisdom abound in the grave Woman-hater ; yet never to Love , is a sign of ill Nature : But he who loves well , and whose Passion is strong , can never be wretched , but e╌ver be Young .

AH , Co╌ri╌don ! in vain you boast , you still do Clo ris Love ; far better 't is your heart were lost , than thus sus╌pi╌tious prove : You then would kill me by disdain , but dying thus , you blot my Name . For all will say , Cloris was false , and went astray : Cloris was false , and did deserve her shame .

TOo justly , alass ! and yet so much in vain , of a fate too severe , may the Lover complain ; whose soul is di╌vi╌ded , and tort'red like mine , when his Duty forbids what his Love does injoyn . Then patience in vain , doth a passion withstand ; for we cannot obey , when we cannot command .

CAn Lu╌cia╌mi╌ra so mistake , to perswade me to fly ; 't is cruel kind , for my own sake to counsel me to dye : Like those faint souls , who cheat themselves of breath ; and dye , for fear of death .

PHillis , the time is come that we must fever ; long have we linger'd 'twixt kindness and strife : And though we promis'd our selves to love ever , there is a fate in Love , as well as Life . So many jealousies daily we try , sometime we freez , and then sometimes we fry ; that Love in Colds , or in Feavers will dye .

ILe have no more dealings , fond Cu╌pid , with thee ; so much I 'm a friend to my dear li╌ber╌tie : 't was passion for Beauty , that kindled my fire ; but thanks be to reason that check'd my desire . My sighs and my fears , they were formerly spent for Love ; I make use of them now to re╌pent : If e're by chance , I hear talk of black Eyes ; I fall to my Pray'rs , and the Ill spirit flyes .

AT the sight of my Phillis , through every part , a Spring-tide of Joy doth flow up to my Heart ; which quickens each Pulse , and swells e╌ve╌ry Vein , yet all my Delights are still mingled with Pain .

WHat fancies of Pleasure doth Love all alone propose to it self , when the Object is gone . But , a╌lass ! how vain is the strength of that Joy , which a word or a frown , has pow'r to destroy .

GIve o're foolish heart , and make hast to despair ; For Daphne regards not thy Vows nor thy Pray'r : When I plead for thy passion , thy pains to prolong : She courts her Gittar , and replyes with a Song . No more shall true Lovers such beauties adore : Were the gods so severe , men would worship no more .

WHere e╌ver I am , or what e╌ver I do , my Phillis is still in my mind : When angry , I mean not to Phillis to go ; my feet of themselves the way find . Unknown to my self , I am just at her door ; and when I would rail , I can bring out no more . Then Phillis , too fair and unkind : Then Phillis too fair and un╌kind .