LOVING JOHN: OR, Yielding JOAN: Being a pleasant Song between two Country Lovers while they were making of Hay. To a pleasant new Tune. Licensed and Entred according to Order.
|
PRithee sweet Joan let us have a kiss,
|
let us enjoy ourselves while we may,
|
Time and the place is as kind as you'd wish,
|
let us go to it and make no delay;
|
Oh, ne'er denys, but now be wise,
|
and taste of those pleasures I've left in store,
|
I'll kiss thee, I'll hug thee, I'll love thee, I'll smug thee,
|
I'll do what I never have done before.
|
No, sir, no, for you will do me harm,
|
therefore excuse me if I deny,
|
Should I do so, you'd get me with bearn,
|
then, sir, for shame where should I fly?
|
Oh, no, no, no, I'll ne'er do so,
|
I'll keep my virginity till I'm wed;
|
Then pray sir leave me me, and do not deceive me,
|
but let me alone, and no more be said.
|
Prithee sweet Jean, take this in thy hand,
|
then you may leave it, if you think fit;
|
This and myself, is at your command,
|
prithee, sweet Joan, make use of it:
|
Oh! ne'er say no, but let it go,
|
for nature will guide it where it should be;
|
Then prithee love take it, and do not forsake it,
|
until all your senses about do flee.
|
Pish, fye, naughty man, what do you mean?
|
I never thought you'd a served me so;
|
I have deny'd you as long as I can,
|
but now I find that will not do,
|
Then so, so, so, go, go, go, go,
|
your charms has kill'd me, I'm slain, I'm slain;
|
Then farewel pretences, they'r gone with my senses,
|
I'm sure I shall never say no again.
|
The wiser thee my amorous Joan,
|
thou art my jewel and hea[r]t's delight,
|
Longer thou shalt not languish alone,
|
for I will visit thee e'ry night,
|
Where in my arms, a thousand charms
|
shall tickle thy fancy in e'ry vein,
|
For tasting this pleasure, and joy out of measure,
|
thou'lt never wish to be a maid again.
|
Joh[n]ny you have a flattering tongue,
|
for when you came with weapon in hand,
|
What could I do? alas, I was young,
|
such a temptation who could withstand?
|
Tho' I deny'd, soon I comply'd,
|
'Tis usual with lasses you know for why,
|
They say nay and take it, we cannot forsake [i]t,
|
there's thousands have done it as well as I.
|
Love, what a comfort d[i]dst thou receive,
|
for maiden-heads are burdens you know,
|
Chear up, for tis a folly to grieve,
|
Since it is gone, I'faith let it go,
|
For why my dear, thou needst not fear
|
but still I'll admire thy lovely brown;
|
Above any other, thou shalt be a mother,
|
and here's a good health to the best in town.
|
These pleasures of love I do adore,
|
sweet Johnny thou hast done me no wrong,
|
If I had but known but as much before,
|
I'd ne'er a carry'd it half so long:
|
No girl would miss, the charming bliss,
|
nor any young lover the least deny;
|
They'd soon be for sporting, for kissing and courting,
|
if ever they knew but as much as I.
|
|
|
|
|
|