Volume 5 — Jockey’s Lamentation.

[Listen]

JOckey met with Jenny fair Betwixt the dawning and the Day, And Jockey now is full of Care, For Jenny stole his Heart away: Altho’ she promis’d to be true, Yet she, alas, has prov’d unkind, That which do make poor Jenny rue, For Jenny’s fickle as the Wind: And, ’Tis o’er the Hills, and far away, ’Tis o’er the Hills, and far away, ’Tis o’er the Hills, and far away, The Wind has blown my Plad away. Jockey was a bonny Lad, As e’er was born in Scotland fair; But now poor Jockey is run mad, For Jenny causes his Despair; Jockey was a Piper’s Son, And fell in Love while he was young: But all the Tunes that he could play, Was, o’er the Hills, and far away, And, ’Tis o’er the Hills, and far away, ’Tis o’er the Hills and far away, ’Tis o’er the Hills and far away, The Wind has blown my Plad away. When first I saw my Jenny’s Face, She did appear with sike a Grace, With muckle Joy my Heart was fill’d; But now alas with Sorrow kill’d. Oh! was she but as true as fair, ’Twou’d put an end to my Despair; But ah, alass! this is unkind, Which sore does terrify my Mind; ’Twas o’er the Hills, and far away, ’Twas o’er the Hills, and far away, ’Twas o’er the Hills, and far away, That Jenny stole my Heart away. Did she but feel the dismal Woe That for her Sake I undergo, She surely then would grant Relief, And put an end to all my Grief: But oh, she is as false as fair, Which causes all my sad Despair; She triumphs in a proud Disdain, And takes Delight to see my Pain; ’Tis o’er the Hills, &c. Hard was my Hap to fall in Love, With one that does so faithless prove; Hard was my fate to court the Maid, That has my constant Heart betray’d: A thousand times to me she swore, She would be true for evermore: But oh! alas, with Grief I say, She’s stole my Heart, and ran away; ’Twas o’er the Hills, &c. Good gentle Cupid take my part, And pierce this false one to the Heart, That she may once but feel the Woe, As I for her do undergo; Oh! make her feel this raging Pain, That for her Love I do sustain; She sure would then more gentle be, And soon repent her Cruelty; ’Tis o’er the Hills, &c. I now must wander for her sake, Since that she will no Pity take, Into the Woods and shady Grove, And bid adieu to my false Love: Since she is false whom I adore, I ne’er will trust a Woman more, From all their Charms I’ll fly away, And on my Pipe will sweetly play; ’Tis o’er the Hills, &c. There by my self I’ll sing and say, ’Tis o’er the Hills, and far away, That my poor Heart is gone astray, Which makes me grieve both Night and Day; Farewel, farewel, thou cruel she, I fear that I shall die for thee: But if I live, this Vow I’ll make, To love no other for your sake. ’Tis o’er the Hills, and far away, ’Tis o’er the Hills, and far away, ’Tis o’er the Hills, and far away, The Wind has blown my Plad away.

The Recruiting Officer: Or, The Merry Volunteers: Being an Excellent New Copy of Verses upon raising Recruits.

To the foregoing Tune.

HARK! now the Drums beat up again, For all true Soldiers Gentlemen, Then let us list, and march I say, Over the Hills and far away; Over the Hills and o’er the Main, To Flanders, Portugal and Spain, Queen Ann commands, and we’ll obey, Over the Hills and far away. All Gentlemen that have a Mind, To serve the Queen that’s good and kind; Come list and enter into Pay, Then o’er the Hills and far away; Over the Hills, &c. Here’s Forty Shillings on the Drum, For those that Volunteers do come, With Shirts, and Cloaths, and present Pay, When o’er the Hills and far away; Over the Hills, &c. Hear that brave Boys, and let us go, Or else we shall be prest you know; Then list and enter into Pay, And o’er the Hills and far away, Over the Hills, &c. The Constables they search about, To find such brisk young Fellows out; Then let’s be Volunteers I say, Over the Hills and far away; Over the Hills, &c. Since now the French so low are brought, And Wealth and Honour’s to be got, Who then behind wou’d sneaking stay? When o’er the Hills and far away; Over the Hills, &c. No more from sound of Drum retreat, While Marlborough, and Gallaway beat, The French and Spaniards every Day, When over the Hills and far away; Over the Hills, &c. He that is forc’d to go and fight, Will never get true Honour by’t, While Volunteers shall win the Day, When o’er the Hills and far away; Over the Hills, &c. What tho’ our Friends our Absence mourn, We all with Honour shall return; And then we’ll sing both Night and Day, Over the Hills and far away; Over the Hills, &c. The Prentice Tom he may refuse, To wipe his angry Master’s Shoes; For then he’s free to sing and play, Over the Hills and far away; Over the Hills, &c. Over Rivers, Bogs, and Springs, We all shall live as great as Kings, And Plunder get both Night and Day, When over the Hills and far away, Over the Hills, &c. We then shall lead more happy Lives, By getting rid of Brats and Wives, That Scold on both Night and Day, When o’er the Hills and far away: Over the Hills, &c. Come on then Boys and you shall see, We every one shall Captains be, To Whore and rant as well as they, When o’er the Hills and far away: Over the Hills, &c. For if we go ’tis one to Ten, But we return all Gentlemen, All Gentlemen as well as they, When o’er the Hills and far away: Over the Hills, &c.