Song XCI., p.342.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

HArk how the trumpet sounds to battle, 

Hark how the thundring cannons rattle; 

Cruel ambition now calls me away, 

While I have ten thousand soft things to say. 

While honour alarms me, 

Young Cupid disarms me, 

And Celia so charms me, 

I cannot away. 


Hark again, honour calls me to arms, 

Hark how the trumpet sweetly charms; 

Celia no more then must be obey’d, 

Cannons are roaring, and ensigns display’d: 

The thoughts of promotion, 

Inspire such a notion 

Of Celia’s devotion, 

I’m no more afraid. 


Guard her for me, celestial powers, 

Ye Gods, bless the nymph with happy soft hours; 

O may she ever to love me incline, 

Such lovely perfections I cannot resign; 

Firm constancy grant her, 

My true love shall haunt her, 

My soul cannot want her, 

She’s all so divine. 

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