True love without deceit OR, The Country Girles Happiness. Where Love and Truth together meet, what pleasure do they find! Beneath the Sun nothing more sweet to a True Lovers mind. Tune of, The Fair one let me in; or, Hey boys up go we.
|
WE that are bonny Country girles
|
injoy our hearts delight;
|
We matter not the Lords, nor Earls,
|
nor do admire the Knights:
|
For Tom, and Dick, with George, & Will,
|
do give us such content,
|
As if our minds for to fulfill
|
they were from Heaven sent.
|
Though all the day abroad they keep,
|
at night they home return,
|
And in their Lovers Arms do sleep,
|
who all the day did mourn;
|
And with sweet kisses do us please,
|
yea; give us such content,
|
That we count Love a sweet Disease
|
from Heaven for Lovers sent.
|
When Susan doth her Robin spy,
|
O how her Heart doth leap!
|
She hath him still within her eye,
|
and in her heart doth keep
|
That face she doth so much admire,
|
which breeds her hearts content;
|
And then she cries, that pleasant Fire
|
was for poor Lovers sent.
|
Nell, Bess, and Jone, all love full well,
|
and cannot it deny;
|
Their passions others do excell;
|
in Love-sick flames they fry,
|
While Ned and loving Bartholomew
|
their absence do lament:
|
And Love unto this jovial Crew
|
was sure from Heaven sent.
|
Oh! that I could express the Charms
|
that do these Lovers seize,
|
When they betwixt each others Arms
|
do lie in perfect ease:
|
While e'ry sigh produceth Love,
|
and gives their hearts content;
|
These pleasures surely from Above
|
were for true Lovers sent.
|
Then Ralph and Daniel by the Plow
|
their passions do record;
|
To constancy they make a vow,
|
all baseness is abhorr[']d:
|
While Jane and Peg as constant prove;
|
and with a joint consent
|
Cry out, that nothing can remove
|
the joys for Lovers sent.
|
But Margery at last comes in,
|
for Hugh she doth expect;
|
She vows that she could dye for him,
|
him she doth so respect:
|
And Hugh her kindness doth repay,
|
theres no Cause to lament;
|
They both long for the joyfull day
|
only for Lovers sent.
|
How sweetly do those Soules imbrace
|
when they together meet!
|
A Barn seemes like a Princely Pallace,
|
where they each other greet:
|
The silent Medows and the Groves
|
both yeild to them content;
|
And all, to animate their loves,
|
was from the Heavens sent.
|
In Constancy they take delight,
|
as Lovers ought to do,
|
In hearts and souls they do unite,
|
this is most certain true:
|
No Courtly Language they do use,
|
nor flattering Complement;
|
Each others faults they do excuse:
|
This bliss for them was sent.
|
Thus you may see the Country Lass,
|
and eke the Country Lad,
|
Will court and kiss upon the Grass,
|
as if they both were mad:
|
And nothing doth there come amiss,
|
their Pleasures to prevent;
|
Tis their delight to hug and kiss;
|
for them such joys were sent.
|
|
|
|
|
|