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EBBA 22040

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The Hackney Damsells PASTIME,
OR,
A Summer Evening FROLLICK.
To a pleasant new Tune, much in Request. This may be Printed, R.P.

[1]
ONE Evening, in hot weather,
I through a Grove did pass,
And saw two Maids together,
sit sporting on the grass:
I stood a while and ey'd them,
They little thought who spy'd them.
Whilst they were imitating
What I'll forbear relating.

[2]
When their Pastime was over,
I gently trod the green,
To surprise them and discover,
that their Frollick I had seen,
The one more nimble sighted
She run as if she was frighted;
The other not surmizing,
I caught her just a Rising.

[3]
And down again I pluckt her,
whilst she cry'd fie upon't;
And quickly did instruct her
in what young Maidens want.
The other at a distance,
Came not to her assistance;
But stamping, stood and said,
Ah Moll, you're a wicked Jade.

[4]
You foolish Girl, come hither
And do as I have done;
I'm sure that you had rather
be kiss'd, than let alone:
He hath gotten in his Breeches
For Maids, a bag of Riches,
Which when you've in possession,
You'll think it no transgression.

[5]
With that the Wench drew nigher,
and I to meet her run;
Whose heart was set on fire
with standing to look on.
I on the grass did throw her,
And soon began to show her,
The pleasing toyle of Nature,
That's lov'd by every Creature.

[6]
She every moment kiss'd me,
and clasps me in her Arms;
And cry'd, ye powers assist me,
to exercise new Charms,
Whilst we our Joys were sharing,
The other she [s]at staring;
Which put me in m[ind] [to] think on,
How the Devil look'd o'er Lincoln.

[7]
When our delights wer[e] over
she blushing to me cry'd,
Good Sir, do not discover
what freedoms you've enjoy'd,
For when my Mistress knows it,
She'll take me to her Closet,
And beats me in her Anger
For kissing with a stranger.

[8]
I all assurance gave her,
I'd keep it in my breast;
She ask'd me if I'd have her,
I answer'd yes in Jest;
The other in a fury:
Cry'd Oh you idle Whore you,
He's a Man that I have right in,
And so they fell to fighting.


Printed for Charles Bates at the White-Hart in West-smithfield.

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