University of Virginia Library

AIR by Mr. SUETT.

O! the little God of Love is a roguish Elf!
He makes us all as childish and blind as himself!
'Gainst sixty-two,
O luckless lot!
His bow he drew,
At me he shot.

24

Twang went the string,
Whizz flew the dart,
On a grey goose wing,
To an old man's heart.
But I'll be merry,
Hey down derry;
Dull sorrow I'll drown,
Derry down down,
Or laugh at them all,
Tol de rol lol.