A NEW SONG OF NEW SIMILIES. Sweet as a rose her breath and lips, Round as the globe her breast. Full as an egg was I with glee, Good Lord! how all men envied me! She lov'd like any thing. NEWGATE'S GARLAND: Being a new Ballad, showing how Mr. Jonathan Wilds Throat was cut from Ear to Ear, with a Penknife, by Mr. Blake, alias Blueskin, the bold Highwayman, as he stood at his Trial in the Old Bailey, 1725. TO THE TUNE OF THE CUTPURSE. 1: YE gallants of Newgate, whose fingers are nice Good news ye shall hear, How Jonathan's throat was cut from ear to ear, II. When to the Old Bailey this Blueskin was led, He drew his penknife, Ánd made a sad widow of Jonathan's wife. III. Some say there are courtiers of highest renown, Who meet once a year to rob courtiers again. To pillage the king, And get a blue riband instead of a string. Now Blueskin's sharp penknife hath set you at ease, IV. Knaves, of old, to hide guilt by their cunning inventions, Now ev'ry man may Rob (as safe as in office) upon the highway. V. Some cheat in the Customs, some rob the Excise : They may be more bold, And rob on the highway since Jonathan's cold: VI. Some by public revenues, which pass'd thro' their hands, Have purchas'd clean houses, and bought dirty lands: Some to steal from a charity think it no sin, Which at home (says the proverb) does always begin. But if ever you be Assign'd a trustee, Treat not orphans like masters of the Chancery; VII. What a pother has here been with Wood and his brass, The new halfpennies, With more safety to rob on the road I advise: STREPHON AND FLAVIA. WITH ev'ry lady in the land Soft Strephon kept a pother: One year he languish'd for one hand, Yet, when his love the shepherd told To Flavia fair and coy, Reserv'd, demure, than snow more cold, Late at a ball he own'd his pain: She blush'd, and frown'd, and swore, With all the marks of high disdain, She'd never hear him more. The swain persisted still to pray, At last she vow'd she would not stay; Enrag'd, she call'd her footman straight, THE QUIDNUNCKIS: A TALE OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF THE DUKE REGENT OF FRANCE. How vain are mortal man's endeavours! * Coffeehouse, near St. James's. H. |