A Fool's Preferment -or- The Three Dukes of Dunstable

  I sigh'd, and I pin'd 
  Was Constant and Kind
To a Jilt that laugh'd at my Pains:
  Though my Passion ne'r cool'd,
  I found I was fool'd,
For all my Abundance of Brains.
  But now I'm a Thing
  As great as a King:
So blest is the Head that is addle!
  The dull, empty Pate
  Soonest comes to be great:
Fate doats on a Fool in the Cradle.

There's nothing so fatal as Woman,
  To hurry a Man to his Grave;
     You may think, you may plot,
     You may sigh like a Sot:
  She uses you more like a Slave.
But a Bottle, altho' it be common,
  The Cheats of the Fair will undo,
     It will drive from your Head
     The Delights of the Bed;
  He that's drunk is not able to wooe.

Fled is my Love, for ever gone!
  Oh! mighty Loss! Eternal Sorrow!
Yet prethee Strephon, why should'st mourn?
For if thy Celia wont return,
  to her thou shalt go to-morrow.

'Tis death alone can give me Ease,
  for all the mighty Pain I've felt;
in his cold Tomb my Heart shall ever freeze,
  since hers could never, never melt.

I'll mount to yon blue Coelum
 To shun these Female Gypsies;
I'll play at Bowles with Sun and Moon,
 And scare ye with Eclipses.

I'll sail upon the Dog Star,
And then pursue the morning,
I'll chase the moon 'till it be noon,
But I'll make her leave her horning.

I'll climb the frosty mountain,
And there I'll coin the weather;
I'll tear the rainbow from the sky,
And tie both ends together.

The stars pluck from their orbs, too,
And crowd them in my budget!
And whether I'm a roaring boy,
Let all the nations judge it.

Jenny, 'gin you can love
  and have resolv'd you will try me,
silly Scruples remove
  and do no longer deny me;
By thy bonny Black Eye,
  I swear nean other can move me;
Then if still you deny,
  You never, never did love me.

Jockey, how can you mistake,
  that know full well when you woo me;
My poor Heart does so ake,
  it throbs as it would come through me!
How can you be my Friend,
  that thus are bent to my Ruine?
All the Love you pretend,
  is only for my Undoing.

Who can tell by what Art
  This Chiming Nothing, called Honour,
Charms my Jenny's soft Heart,
  When Love and Jockey has won her?
'Tis a Toy in the Head,
  And Muckle Woe there's about it;
Yet I'd rather be dead,
  Than live in Scandal without it.

But if you'l love me, and Wed;
  And guard my Honour from Harms too;
Jockey I'le take to my Bed,
  And fold him close in my Arms too.
Talk not of Wedding, dear Sweet,
  For I must have Chains that are softer;
I'm of a Northerly Breed,
  And never shall love thee well after.

Then since ill Fortune intends,
  Our Amity shall be no dearer;
Still let us kiss and be friends,
  And sigh we shall never come nearer.

If thou wilt give me back my Love
  for ever I'le Adore thee:
and for the favour, mighty Jove,
  with Souls from Heaven shall store thee;
To the Queen of Shades, she shall advance,
  and all shall wait upon her;
Kings shall Adore her Countenance,
  and I'le be her Page of Honour.