The Hasty Damosel.
OR,
Her worthy Praise of her Beloved William, a Seaman .
The Maid would fain a Husband gain,
to give her true content;
Her Mother she most willingly
at length did give consent.
Tune of, The Seamans departure , or, Doubting Virgin . This may be printed, R.P.
|
M Other, pray when shall I marry,
|
and receive a womans due?
|
Do you think that I will tarry
|
while I am as old as you?
|
Men and Maidens then will flout me,
|
but I now have sweethearts store,
|
Harry , Will and Tom's about me;
|
nay, besides a dozen more.
|
This did cause her Mothers laughter,
|
then immediately she said,
|
Sure you on't so hasty Daughter,
|
who lives better than a Maid?
|
This discourse, said she, don't please me,
|
there is Robin , Ralph and Will ,
|
Kiss and court, and daily tease me,
|
thus they do torment me still.
|
Three or four each day comes to me,
|
then they seldom do agree;
|
They so eager are to wooe me,
|
that I fear they'l fight for me:
|
But if things were rightly carry'd,
|
I should lead a happy life;
|
That is, if I once were marry'd
|
this would straightway end the strife.
|
L Ikewise for another Reason
|
I indeed would fain be wed;
|
In the cold in winter season
|
I shall lye full warm in bed.
|
Then bespoke her loving mother,
|
which of these pray will you have?
|
Will , said she, above all other,
|
he's a man both neat and brave.
|
Never was a finer Saylor;
|
e'ery one will speak his praise;
|
True, I might heave had a Taylor,
|
but I did not like his ways;
|
He show'd me a deal a Cabbage
|
which he pinch'd the week before;
|
But I slav'd him, and out-brav'd him,
|
so that he came there no more.
|
After him, a Miller, Mother,
|
came and did in love proceed,
|
But as I had serv'd the tother,
|
so I served him indeed:
|
Neither Miller, no nor Taylor,
|
ever shall my love obtain;
|
But a noble-hearted Saylor,
|
who hath plough'd the Ocean main.
|
He hath sail'd to forreign Nations,
|
in the Straits , to France and Spain ;
|
I of him give this Relation,
|
when as he return'd again,
|
Gold and Silver he had plenty,
|
with Apparel neat and trim,
|
Might I have the choice of twenty,
|
i'd forsake them all for him.
|
He is of a comely carriage,
|
like him there is hardly one;
|
If I ever joyn in marriage,
|
it shall be with him alone:
|
I will never be unruly,
|
but in true Obedience stand;
|
Pray now mother tell me truly,
|
is he not a pretty man?
|
Yes, I like him, therefore Daughter,
|
may you both full happy be;
|
Marry now, or else hereafter,
|
it shall be all one to me.
|
She no sooner had consented
|
that she should be made a Bride,
|
But the Tears of joy was vented,
|
with a thousand thanks beside.
|
|
|
|
|
|