Tax'd dogs' garland/Hap Me With Thy Petticoat

HAP ME WITH THY PETTICOAT.

O BELL, thy looks have kill‘d my heart,
I paſs the day in pain
When night returns I feel the ſmart,
and wiſh for them in vain,
I'm ſtarving in cold, while thou art warm:
have pity and incline,
And grant me for a hap that charming
petticoat of thine.

My raviſh'd fancy in amaze,
ſtill wanders o‘er thy charms,
Deluſive dreams ten thouſand ways,
preſent thee to my arms
By waking think what I endure,
while cruel you decline,
Thoſe pleaſures, who can only cure,
this panting breaſt of mine.

I faint, I fail, and wildly rove,
becauſe you ſtill deny
The juſt reward that‘s due to love,
and let true paſſion die.
Oh! turn and let compaſſion ſeize
that lovely breaſt of thine;

Thy peticoat would give me eaſe,
if thou and it were mine.

Sure Heaven has fitted for delight,
that beaateous form of thine,
And thou'rt too good its law to ſlight,
by hind ring the deſign.
May all the powers of love agree,
at length to make thee mine,
Or loſe my chains, and ſet me free
from ev'ry charm of thine.

F I N I S.