The Kind Reception
[Note: To the Tune of Auld Lang Syne.] Should auld Acquaintance be forgot, Tho they return with Scars? These are the noble Heroe’s Lot, Obtain’d in glorious Wars: Welcome my Varo to my Breast, Thy Arms about me twine, And make me once again as blest, As I was lang syne. Methinks around us on each Bough, A Thousand Cupids play, Whilst thro’ the Groves I walk with you, Each Object makes me gay. Since your Return the Sun and Moon With brighter Beams do shine, Streams murmur soft Notes while they run, As they did lang syne. Despise the Court and Din of State, Let that to their Share fall; Who can esteem such Slav’ry great, While bounded like a Ball? But sunk in Love, upon my Arms Let your brave Head recline, We’ll please our selves with mutual Charms, As we did lang syne. O’er Moor and Dale with your gay Friend You may pursue the Chace; And after a blyth Bottle end All Cares in my Embrace: And in a vacant rainy Day You shall be wholly mine; We’ll make the Hours run smooth away, And laugh at lang syne. The Heroe pleas’d with the sweet Air, And Signs of gen’rous Love, Which had been utter’d by the Fair, Bow’d to the Pow’rs above: Next Day with Consent and glad Haste Th’approach’d the sacred Shrine, Where the good Priest the Couple blest, And put them out of Pine.
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