Spendthrift clapt into limbo, or, the rake reclaim'd/Sweet Polly

SWEET POLLY.

DOWN in yon country lives a pretty dame,
⁠She's called ſweet Polly always by her name,
Her checks are like cherries, her lips are like dew,
There's none in the world I can fancy but you.

⁠How can I be eaſy or compos'd in my mind!
To leave Polly my fancy and jewel behind?
I'll go to the ocean and ſail it all through,
Unleſs that my Polly, ſweet Poly be true.

⁠If I had a thouſand pounds laid up in ſtore,
I'd give it to Polly, had I as much more,
I'd throw out my net to catch her in a ſnare,
And bring her home I vow and declare.

⁠Was I a fiſherman who lives by the tide,
And Polly a ſalmon, ſwimming by my ſide,
I'd throw out my net to catch her in a ſnare,
And bring her home I vow and declare.

⁠If you ſee my Polly going to the fair,
She's the toaſt of the country I vow and declare,
With her red roſy cheeks and her golden hair,
I here is none in the world can with ber compare.

⁠My love is ſweeter than the larks when they ſing,
Or the pleaſant herb that ſummer doth bring,
The lilie of the vale is not fairer than ſhe,
I'll die for her ſake if ſhe won't kinder be.

⁠My love is like a roſe in a garden ſteep,
Her neck is like a ſwan ſwimming in the deep,
Ye gods! pray ſend the time ſoon to be,
When I ſhall enjoy Polly, and Polly me.

⁠Her breath's ſweet as vi'lets, her eyes like ſloes,
Whene'er I behold her my heart overflows;
If her friends be contented, together we'll go,
To this make an anſwer, love, ſay ay or no.