8 The Lass of Richmond Hill On Richmond Hill there lives a laſs, more blythe than ⟨May-day⟩ morn, Whoſe charms all other maids ſurpaſs, a roſe without a thorn. The laſs ſo neat with ſmiles ſo ſweet, Has won my right good will, I'd crowns reſign to call thee mine, ſweet laſs of Richmond Hill. Ye zephyrs gay that fan the air, and wanton thro' the grove, Oh! whiſper to my charming fair, I die for her and love. How happy will the ſhepherd be, who calls this nymph her own, Oh! may her choice be fix'd on me, mine's fix'd on her alone. FINIS.
