To the Tune of " Old Simon the King "

1.

The Golden Age is come;
The winter storms are gone;
The flowers do spread and bloom,
And smile to see the sun,
Who daily gilds each grove
And calms the angry seas.
Dame Nature seems in love,
And all the world's at ease.

" You rogue, go saddle Ball,
I'll to Newmarket scour.
You never mind when I call;
I should have been there this hour!

" For there is all sporting and game,
Without any plotting of state.
From Whigs, and another such sham,
Deliver us, deliver us, O Fate!

" Let's be to each other a prey;
To be cheated be ev'ryone's lot,
Or choused any sort of a way
But by another damned plot.
Let cullies that lose at the race
Go venture at hazard and win;
And he that is bubbled at dice,
Recover't at cocking again:

" Let jades that are foundered be bought;
Let jockeys play crimp to make sport;
For, 'faith, it was strange, methought,
To see vintner beat the court.

2.

" Each corner of the town
Rings with perpetual noise:
The oyster -bawling clown
Joins with Hot Pudding-Pies;
And both in consort keep
To vend their stinking ware;
The drowsy god of sleep
Hath no dominion there.

" " Hey boys! " the jockeys roar,
" If the mare and the gelding run,
I'll hold you five guineas to four
He beats her, and gives half a stone. "

" " God d — me," quoth Bully, " 'tis done,
Or else I'm a son of a whore;
And fain would I meet with the man
Would offer it, would offer it once more.
" See, see the damned fate of the town!
A fop that was starving of late,
And scarcely could borrow a crown,
Puts in to run for the plate.
Another makes chousing a trade,
And dreams of his projects to come,
And many a crimp match has made
By bribing another man's groom.

" The townsmen are Whiggish, God rot 'em,
Their hearts are but loyal by fits;
For, should you search to the bottom,
They're as nasty as their streets.

3.

" But now all hearts beware.
See, see on yonder downs!
Beauty now triumphs there,
And at this distance wounds.
In the Amazonian wars
Thus all the virgins shone,
And, like the glittering stars,
Paid homage to the moon.

" Love proves a tyrant now,
And there doth proudly dwell;
For each stubborn heart must bow,
He has found a new way to kill.

" For ne'er was invented before
Such charms of additional grace,
Nor has divine Beauty such pow'r
In ev'ry, in ev'ry fair face.

" " Od's bud," cries my countryman John,
" Was ever the like before seen?
By hats and by feathers they've on,
Ise took 'em e'en all for men.
Embroidered and fine as the sun,
Their horses and trappings of gold;
Such a sight I shall ne'er see again,
If I live to a hundred years old."

" This, this is the country's discourse,
All wond'ring at this rare sight:
Then Roger, go saddle my horse,
For I will be there tonight. "