The CALL to the RACES At Newmarket.  
To the Tune of, To Horse, Brave Boys.  
Licenced according to Order.  

I.  
TO Horse brave boys to Newmarket to horse,  
you'll lose the Match by longer delaying,  
The Gelding just now was led over the Coast,  
I think the Devils in you for staying,  
Run and endeavour to bubble the sporters,  
Bets may be recovered lost at the Groomporters;  
follow, follow, follow, led down by the ditch,  
Then take the Odds, and then you'll be rich,  
For I will have Brown-Bay if Blew-Bonnet Ride,  
I'll hold a Thousand pound on his side Sir,  
Dragon could scour it, but Dragon is old,  
He cannot endure it, he cannot he will not,  
now run it as lately he could,  
Age, age hath hindered his speed Sir,  
Now, now, now see they come on,  
see, see, the Horse leads the way,  
Full three lengths before at the turn of the land,  
Five Hundred pound upon the Brown-Bay,  
But a Pox of the Devil I fear we have lost,  
The Dog the Blew-Bonnet, has run it,  
(a Murrain light on it)  
the wrong side the Post,  
Odds-Bobs was ever such fortune.   

II.  
Make haste, make haste, to Newmarket away,  
you idly leave your sport by delaying,  
The Race will be run e'er the heat of the day,  
we shall lose all our bets by our staying,  
Run, Run, and freely your Guineas now venture  
Upon the Brisk Brown-Bay, when e'er she do'sentor  
Follow, Follow, follow on this side the Ditch,  
And take most odds if you will be rich,  
As for me i'll have Sorrel, if Blew-Bonnet ride,  
And lay you fifty pound on his side, Sir,  
Sorrel runs swiftest since Dragons grown old,  
You'll find by and by that he cannot endure it,  
nor run it as lately he could  
Years, Years doth hinder his speed, Sir,  
Now, now, now see they come on,  
see Sorrel still leads the way,  
A full furlong before at the Turn of the land,  
Five Hundred pound 'tis that gets the Day.  
But fie on that Jockey, I fear I have lost.  
With ease he had won it, had won it, if he had but run it,  
On this side the Post,  
No Man had ever such fortune.   

III.  
To Horse, we must not of Fortune complain,  
nor lose our time in Jockeys dispraising,  
The Geldings are galloping over the plain,  
while we stand idle prating and gazing,  
Run and attempt to retrieve all our losses,  
And never stand railing at fortune and crosses,  
Follow, Follow, follow, I'll lead on this side,  
And see if I can once be a guide,  
'Tis the Brown-Bay I fancy she trouls it apace,  
I'll hold an hundred on the Race, Sir,  
Dragon does scour it, but Brown-Bay's before,  
And holds it, and holds it, and wins it and wins it  
He runs it, so merrily over,  
I'll hold you now five hundred pound more.  
But now were undone and our Guineas are lost,  
The Rogue the Blew-Bonnet, ha run it,  
(a Vengeance light on it)  
the wrong side the post,  
I never had such ill fortune.   
FINIS.   

Printed for C. Bates, at the Sun and Bible: in Pie-corner.