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y_ has my kindness slighted, I'll never trust a Woman more; 'Twas in her alone I e'er delighted, But since she's false I'll leave the Shoar: In Ship I'll enter, on Seas I'll venture, And sail the World where I'm not known: _Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,_ _She's gone and left me here alone._ _Sorrow banish'd in a_ MUG. _The Words_ _by Sir_ Edward Morgan. [Music] If Sorrow the Tyrant invade thy Breast, Haul out the foul Fiend by the Lug, the Lug, Let nought of to morrow disturb thy Rest, But dash out his Brains with a Mug, a Mug. If Business unluckily goes not well, Let the fond Fools their Affections hug, To shew our Allegiance we'll go to the Bell, And banish Despair in a Mug, a Mug. If thy Wife proves not one of the Best, the Best, But admits no time but to think, to think; Or the weight of thy Forehead bow down thy Crest, Divert the dull _Damon_ with Drink, with Drink, If Miss prove peevish and will not gee, Ne'er pine, ne'er pine at the wanton Pug, But find out a fairer, a kinder than she, And banish Dispair in a Mug, a Mug. If dear Assignation be crost, be crost, And Mistress go home in a rage, a rage; Let not thy poor Heart like a Ship be tost, But with a brisk Brimmer engage, engage: What if the fine Fop and the Mask fall out. And the one Hug, and t'other Tug, While they pish and fie, we will frolick in Stout, And banish all Care in a Mug, a Mug. If toying young _Damon_ by _Sylvia's_ Charms, At length should look pale and perplexed be; To cure the Distemper and ease those harms, Go straight to the _Globe_ and ask Number three: There beauties like _Venus_ thou canst not lack, Be kind to them, they will sweetly hug; There's choice of the Fairest, the Brown or the Black. Then banish Despair in a Mug, a Mug. Let then no Misfortune e'er make thee dull, But drink away care in a Jug, a Jug; Then let not thy Tide steal away, but pull, Carouse away though in a Mug, a Mug: While others for Greatness and Fortune's doom, While they for their Ambition tug; We'll sit close and snug in a Sea-coal Room, And banish Despair in a Mug, a Mug. Let Zealots o'er Coffee new Plots devise, And lace with fresh Treason the Pagan Drug; Whilst our Loyal Blood flows our Veins shall shine, Like our Faces inspir'd with a Mug, a Mug: Let Sectaries dream of Alarms, Alarms, And Fools still for new changes tug; While fam'd for our Loyalty we'll
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