The Story of Nell Gwyn — Chapter 4

————the first English bornThat has the crown of these three kingdoms worn.

His very dog at council boardSits grave and wise as any lord,

The glories of our blood and state,

Four-and-twenty fiddlers all in a row,And there was fiddle-fiddle, and twice fiddle-fiddle, &c.

I pass all my hours in a shady old grove,But I live not the day when I see not my love;I survey every walk now my Phillis is gone,And sigh when I think we were there all alone;O then, 'tis O then, that I think there's no hellLike loving, like loving too well.

But each shade and each conscious bow'r when I find,Where I once have been happy, and she has been kind;When I see the print left of her shape on the green,And imagine the pleasure may yet come again;O then 'tis I think that no joys are aboveThe pleasures of love.

While alone to myself I repeat all her charms,She I love may be lock'd in another man's arms,She may laugh at my cares, and so false she may be,To say all the kind things she before said to me:O then, 'tis then, that I think there's no hellLike loving too well.

But when I consider the truth of her heart,Such an innocent passion, so kind without art;I fear I have wronged her, and hope she may beSo full of true love to be jealous of me:And then 'tis I think that no joys are aboveThe pleasures of love.

Good store of good claret supplies everything,And the man that is drunk is as great as a king,

Yet he would laugh at his best friends, and beJust as good company as Nokes or Leigh.