[THE]
New-Blossom'd Marigold;
OR,
The Maids Consent to the Young-Mans Request,
Within Serrellas Breast Love Lurkin lies,
Paying Devotion to Laretta's eyes:
Who scorn'd him for a time, but then the Lass,
Her M arigold was open'd on the Grass.
To the Tune of Jenny Ginn, Or, as I walkt forth to take the air.
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A S I walkt forth to take the Air,
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upon a Summers day,
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Serrella and his Nymph so fair,
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was in the Field so gay:
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He Courted her upon the grass,
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her charming looks was such,
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The Mary-Gold he might not unclose,
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nor yet the Rose to touch.
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But now the Little Blinded God,
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had pierct his tender heart,
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And blow'd the Coals of fiery Love,
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to ease him of his smart:
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Though Coy at first she seem'd to be,
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and with him she did chide,
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Yet he did pluck the mary-gold,
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and sweetest Rose beside.
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For now Serrella boulder grew,
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impatient of delay,
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And swore by all the powers of Love,
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he could no longer stay:
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Nor would he break the gordion knot,
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which he so firmly ty'd
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But he must pluck the M arygold,
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I and the Rose beside.
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The Nymph whose tender heart did yeld
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to her Serrellas Charms
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With smiling looks she came to him,
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and claspt him in her arms:
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Quoth she thou hast me over-come,
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and I do yield to thee,
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The marygold and sweetest Rose,
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and to them thou shalt be free.
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And now our joys do still increase,
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in Love we will agree,
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Our sweet embraces still abound,
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and equal harmony:
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The pleasant Groves do sweetly crown,
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our blisses night and day,
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A nd now the marygold his own,
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I and the Rose so gay.
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The Fort that ne're before was won,
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to thee I now resign.
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My self and all I have quoth she,
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for ever shall be thine:
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These sweet enticing charms of love,
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do make me yield to thee,
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The marygold and sweetest Rose,
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and to them thou shalt be free.
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Laretta now the wound would cure,
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which she before had made,
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And her Serrellas scorching flames,
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was now by her allay'd,
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Into Celestial joys they were,
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both brought without delay,
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In opening of the marygold,
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I and the Rose so gay.
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And now under the shady trees,
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we'l sweetly sit and sing,
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Whilst birds with their delightful notes
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do make the Woods to ring:
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And Celebrate the happiness,
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of our most sweet repose,
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In opening of the marygold,
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I and the sweetest Rose,
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