I. Oh ponder well! do not me blame

Oh ponder well! do not me blame
For Follies that are past,
If e'er I'm guilty of the same,
Then may I be lock'd fast;

And kept secure from S---e Arms,
Which Blessing I do prize,
And will secure him from all Harms
I can, between my T---.

But now my Conscience it does prick,
Macheath, I am afraid,
Will play an artful cunning Trick,
And will us both upbraid.

Captain Macheath is the best skill'd,
If they a Duel fight;
S---e per Chance then may be kill'd,
And Macheath put to Flight.

So here there are two Lovers lost;
Then I a new must find;
A RICH one's best to stand the Cost;
On him I'll fix my Mind.

II. No more sporting

No more sporting,
Nor no courting,
In the pleasant Venus' Play;
I'll grow wiser,
Be the nicer,
And throw off that simple Gay.
Since my Senses
Are Offences,
To that lovely Creature, Man;
Farewell Pleasure,
After Treasure,
They no more shall my Heart trapan.

III. Le Printemps rampelle aux Armes.

H---b---t, my Knight, 'tis him I adore,
Without flattering:
H---b---t, my Knight, 'tis him I adore,
And will be true.
And will pray for that happy Hour,
In which he will his Flames renew.

But for fear too much should him cloy,
And cause him to loath;
But for fear too much should him cloy,
And make him loath;
What he once prized as his Joy,
And above all Things what he chose.

I shall therefore, e'er it be long,
Beg him to desist;
I shall therefore, e'er it be long,
Beg he'd desist;
And peruse the proceeding Song,
Which is the Thoughts of my throbbing Breast.

IV. Good--morrow Gossip Joan.

Good--morrow pretty Knight,
I hope you were pleased
With the Raptures of last Night,
Upon which you feasted,
Pretty Knight.

Therefore most worthy Sir,
You can't think me cruel;
Nor take it for a Blur,
If I chuse another Jewel,
Worthy Sir.

V. Gin thou wert mine awn Thing ---

O I love thee to excess,
Must I leave thee, must I leave thee,
O I love thee to excess;
Must thy Polly ever leave thee;
But lest your Wife's Unkindness
Should interfere, and rob me o'the Bliss,
Then I must think of thee less,
And feast only on thy Idea.

VI. Thomas, I cannot, &c.

I like a Man should sport and play,
Without the Way of coquetting:
Kiss, smile and pass the Time away,
Without Remorse of regretting;
Ne'er think at last,
Of Pleasures past,
But Love; and Sorrow banish.
When you're at Ease,
Your Mind you please,
Then all Follies relinquish.

VII. I am a poor Shepherd undone, &c.

When my Lover his Suit did begin,
And open'd his Veins ev'ry Way,
It was so sweet I could not refrain
From sporting in Venus's Play,
His exceeding GAY Air and Mien,
Had such Influence over me,
That I thought RICH alias LUN,
Had been enjoying of my Body.
And alas, poor Polly!
Alack and well--a--day!
Before I was in Love,
Oh! every Month was May.

VIII. Grim King of the Ghosts, &c.

Since I am obliged to smile,
And must not the Menkind e'er scorn;
I'll take Care they shan't me beguile,
Lest they should leave me forlorn.
When they press me, I will seem kind,
And humour their pretty Air:
Kindness they always shall find,
So I'll play the coquetting Fair.

IX. O the Broom, &c.

If you'd an honest Man be deem'd,
In the Affairs of State;
Take Care you're not too well esteem'd,
By Both the High and Great:

Such as---and his Crew,
For if once you are hedg'd in;
They'll teach you how to cheat in Lew,
Of some of their own Kind.

Therefore beware, lest you are caught
In Cases of that Kind:
If are you be, your Head comes off,
Which Trifle they don't mind.

So if my Argument prevails,
And gives you an Insight
Into the Merits of these Fools,
Laugh at their foolish Bite.

X. All in the Downs the Fleet was moor'd, &c.

Virtue, dear Sir, needs no Defence,
Lest it should it self surprize;
The surest Guard is Innocence,
Which every Female ought to prize,
And bless the Powers that hath her endow'd
With no such Charms as for to be belov'd.

Come all you of the Female Kind,
That can Love when Necessity calls,
And can feign a being kind,
To prevent you from the Man's enthrols.
Never let your Minds to them be inclin'd,
If you do, at last, you'll find them unkind.

XI. What shall I do to shew how much I love her, &c.

My Dear, you are so Charming I do adore thee,
And could for ever feast on the Delights,
Whilst you lay panting and were enjoying me,
And did such sweet Raptures to me impart;
But when I once think of quitting your Presence,
And am oblig'd in anoth'r's Arms to lye;
Yet I never will fail to give you the Preference,
And will my Love, my Dear, never deny.

XII. Would Fate to me Belinda give ---

Among the Men, Coquets we find,
Who court by Turns all Women--kind;
And when they their Intents have gain'd,
Then you may see their Passion was feign'd.

But pray, shall we not then in lieu,
Who are gen'rally loving and true;
Be cautious how our Minds we place,
On so fickle a Creature's Face.

XIII. Pretty Parrot say ---

Poll likes Sir R--- F---,
For to play the Wag;
Because he is no great Brag,
Like her witty Lover GAY:
Heaving Sighs,
In Transport dies,
Between her T---s;
Often does he faint away:
And on her Bosom loll,
And on her Bosom loll,
O pretty, pretty Poll.

Poll's a pretty Fair,
With a charming Air,
That she is ador'd by all
Who does her Sex admire;
She'll no more,
Play the Whore,
For a Score
Of those who would buy her;
For she'll be an honest Girl,
For she'll be an honest Girl,
O pretty, pretty Poll.

Poll performs her Parts,
With such Grace and Arts,
That each Night she conquers Hearts,
Both in Pits and Boxes;
Then refrain,
Ben't so plain,
Do not stain,
Poll with common Doxies:
For she does charm us all,
For she does charm us all,
O pretty, pretty Poll.

Since Poll has gain'd Applause,
All vindicate her Cause,
And prodigious Crowds she draws,
All conspire to Clap her:
The House rings,
When she sings;
Must such Things
Vanish in a Vapour?
No, she out--shines 'em all,
No, she out--shines 'em all,
O pretty, pretty Poll.

XIV. Irish Howl.

No Power on Earth can e'er divide
The Knot that by true Love is ty'd,
For when a Woman's Love is fix'd,
There is no intruding betwixt.
Oh! oh, ray, oh Amborah--oh, oh, &c.

Then witness all ye Pow'rs above,
Sir R--- F--- I dearly love;
And will my Mind on him employ,
Who shall continue my sweetest Joy.
Oh! oh, ray, oh Amborah--oh, oh, &c.

So here my Opera I do end,
With loving of my dearest Friend;
And beg that he'd not me forget,
Nor think that I have him quite left.
Oh! oh, ray, oh Amborah--oh, oh, &c.