The Combers Whistle
OR,
The Sport of the Spring.
This story plain will make appear,
What mettle-men the Combers are,
And that they are no whit afraid,
To entertain a pretty Maid;
The pleasant time in mirth they spent,
Whereas he gave her good content.
Tune of, The Carmans Whistle. With Allowance, Ro. L'Estrange .
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A LL in a pleasant Morning,
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in the Merry Month of May ;
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Walking the fragrant Meadows,
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where the Comber took his way:
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And viewing round about him,
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wheras he did remain;
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At length he spyed a fair Maid,
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upon the flowry Plain.
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So chearful was her countenance,
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and lovely to behold,
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She seem'd as if that Venus fair,
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was of the self same Mold.
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And many a smirk, and smile she gave,
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all in the Meadows green,
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I could compare her unto none,
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but unto Loves fair Queen.
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At length she turn'd her smiling
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into a love-sick song,
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Lamenting of her woful chance,
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she staid a Maid so long:
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There's many that are younger
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then I, that have been wed;
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Yet still I fear that I shall dye,
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and keep my Maiden-head.
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My Fathers rich and wealthy,
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and hath no Child but I,
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But still I want a Husband,
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to keep me company:
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My years are young and tender,
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and I am fair and tall,
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Yet there is never a youngman,
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will comfort me at all.
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T He blossoms of my beauty,
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I think may well invite,
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Some Batchelor of fortune good,
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to take me for his right;
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For why I dare presume it,
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there's few doth me excell,
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As it is manifest and plain,
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to all that know me well.
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How happy are those Virgins all,
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that in the City throng,
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For they have Sweet-hearts plenty,
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and ne'r live single long;
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Which makes me grieve so sadly,
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that yet I am not sped,
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For in plain terms, to tell you true,
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I long for to be wed.
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This Comber he stood listning,
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to hear her make such moan,
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His heart was sorely grieved,
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to see her all alone;
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He quickly stept unto her,
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and with a joyful cheer,
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Quoth he fair Maid I chanced,
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your mournful Song to hear.
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And now I'm come to ease you
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of all your grief and pain,
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For why, I well can please you,
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by Whistling of a strain;
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Quoth she I long to hear it,
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so well that you can play,
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Then prithee go about it straight,
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because I hate delay.
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Then he pull'd forth his Whistle
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and plaid a note or two;
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The Maid she was so over-joy'd,
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she knew not what to do:
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And well she was contented,
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with him to bear a part,
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A blessing said this Maiden fair,
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light on this Combers heart.
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Quoth she, I prithee tell me,
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where did'st thou learn this game,
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It was a young brisk Journey-man
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that made it for his Dame.
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With which he oft did please her,
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as she to him did say,
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And charg'd him that he should not see,
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the Whistle made away.
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Then she did him desire
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one other Tune to play,
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Which made her so admire
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she thus to him did say:
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Of all the pleasant Musick
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that ever I did know;
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The Combers merry Whistle,
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shall for my money go.
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O when shall we two meet again,
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for pleasure and delight?
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At any time or season,
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by day, or eke by night:
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Then count me very slothful,
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if that you send for me,
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When as I fail to meet my Dear:
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so take these Kisses three.
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