A Choice collection of new songs and ballads the words made to several pleasant tunes / by Mr. D'urfey ; with tunes transpos'd for the flute.

PUSS in a Corner:

A New SONG. The Words made by Mr. Durfey, to a pretty New Tune made by a Man of Quality.

〈♫〉〈♫〉 TO Cullies and Bullies of Country and Town, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 to Wearers and Tearers of Manteau and Gown; 〈♫〉〈♫〉 all Christian good People, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 that live round Paul's Steeple, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 I'll tell you a pleasant Case: 〈♫〉〈♫〉 Hot headed I Wedded at Age of Threescore, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 a flanting young Wanton, Eighteen and no more; 〈♫〉〈♫〉 of Parents I sought her, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 and Money soon bought her, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 I well might have had more Grace; 〈♫〉〈♫〉 For dai╌ly at Table she'd pout and she'd squabble, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 and this still was all I got, when e'er I ask'd why, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 she'd cry pish

fye, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 for Gold nor Apparel 〈♫〉〈♫〉 I never did quarrel, 〈♫〉〈♫〉 but on╌ly you starve my Cat.

II.

A Pretty young Kitty, She had that could Purr; 'Twas gamesome and handsome, And had a rare Furr; And straight up I took it, and offer'd to stroke it, In hopes I should make it kind; But lowting and powting, It still was to me, Tho' Nature, the Creature, Design'd should be free. I play'd with its Whiskers and would have had discourse, But ah! it was dumb and blind: When Cloris unquiet, who knew well its diet, And found that I wanted that, Cry'd pray, Run, fetch Iohn, He's the Man that can, When it does need it, best know how to feed it, Or gad you will starve my Cat.

III.

As Fleet as my Feet Could convey me I sped; To Iohnny who many Times Pussey had fed. I told him my Errand, he wanted no warrant, But hasted to shew his skill: He took it to stroak it, And close in his lap He laid it to feed it, And gave it some Pap; And with such a passion it took the Collation, Its belly began to fill, And now within Door is, so merry my Cloris, She laughs and grows wonderous fat, And I run for Iohn, Who's the Man that can, Tho' I'm at distance, give present assistance, To please her, and feed her Cat.