In a Summer’s Day

From Hogg’s Jacobite Relics.

In a summer’s day when all was gay
   The lads and lasses met
In a flowery mead, when each lovely maid
   Was by her true love set.
Dick took the glass, and drank to his lass,
And Jamie’s health around did pass;
Huzza! they cried; Huzza! they all replied,
   God bless our noble King.

To the Queen, quothiwell; Drink it off, says Nell,
   They say she is wondrous pretty;
And the prince, says Hugh; That’s right, says Sue;
   God send him home, says Katy;
May the powers above this tribe remove,
And send us back the man we love.
Huzza! they cried; Huzza! they all replied,
   God bless our noble King.

The liquor spent, they to dancing went,
   Each gamester took his mate;
Ralph bow’d to Moll, and Hodge to Doll,
   Hal took out black-eyed Kate.
Name your dance, quoth John; Bid him, says Anne,
Play, The King shall enjoy his own again.
Huzza! they cried; Huzza! they all replied,
   God bless our noble King.

 

The End

 

John Childs and Son, Printers

 

From Fielding and from Vavasour,
   Both ill-affected men;
From Lunsford eke dilver us,
   That eateth up children.
            Loyal Songs, ed. 1731, i. 38.

T. W.

—“I’ll have a bout with thee;
Devil, or devil’s dam, I’ll conjure thee:
Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch.”

(Hen. V. Part I.  Act I. sc. 5.)
T. W.

“But, Baron Wild, come out here,
Show your ferret face and snout here,
For you, being both a fool and a knave,
Are a monster in the rout here.”

Loyal songs II. 55.

“Salloway with tobacco
Inspired, turned State quack-o;
And got more by his feigned zeal
Then by his, What d’ye lack-o?”

In another he is introduced thus,

“The tobacco-man Salway, with a heart tall of gall
Puffs down bells, steeples, priests, churches and all,
As old superstitions relicks of Baal.”

A third ballad, alluding to his attitude in the House, couples together

“Mr William Lilly’s astrological lyes,
And the meditations of Salloway biting his thumbs.”—T. W.

   “Baron Hill was but a valley,
   And born scarce to an alley;
But now is lord of Taunton Dean,
   And thousands he can rally.”

   “Luke Robinson, that clownado,
   Though his heart be a granado,
Yet a high shoe with his hand in his poke
   Is his most perfect shadow.”