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EBBA 22060

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The Happy SHEPHERD:
OR,
The Charming Virgin.
Being an Excellent New Song, Made by a Person of Quality.
To an Excellent New Tune, much in Request at Court.
Licensed according to Order.

I.
CHarming Jenny is Fair, and Gay,
And Blith as Nightingales in May;
And round her Eye-lids young Cupids play:
In her Face the sweet Spring is seen,
The Violet, Rose, and Lilly,
And the Daffadilly,
These are like young Billy's Queen;
And all the Swains do admire, and desire,
And lay Garlands by her,
And each burns with a pleasing Flame.

II.
Balmy Kisses, each Night,
Young Jenny gives me with Delight,
And is a Lass most bonny, a Beauty bright:
She has Eyes that are black and fine,
Black as any Berry,
With a Hey-down-Derry,
Brisk as any sparkling Wine;
And without measure, we toy and take our pleasure
And I search her Treasure,
And I find her all o're Divine.

III.
He that sees a sweet Beauty in her Bed,
With Cheeks (like Crimson) Red,
When on soft Pillows she lays her Head;
Straight must think on ten thousand Joys,
Of sweet Maiden Kisses,
And of Virgin-Blisses,
And of little Bantling-Boys:
'Tis so, for no Man, but loves a pretty Woman,
(If she be not Common)
Thus 'tis Beauty that all destroys.

IV.
In cool Bowers we'll Sport and play,
And pass the time away,
For Youth is sweet as the Sun-shine day:
Love's a Banquet that all doth please,
The Old Dads in the City,
When they get a pretty
Wench, will give her Golden Fees:
Oh! how they Smug her, and Tug her,
And will Kiss and Hug her,
And bestir their Stumps, till the Lass agrees.

V.
Beauty none need fear,
'Tis as tender as the Dove and Deer,
And 'tis a Park for Lovers to Range in here:
Here we feed on the Hill or Dale,
Graze upon the Cheek,
Till Rosie-Morning break,
And stray all round the pleasant Vale:
For Maids (like wild-Birds) are tam'd with handling
And with pleasant Dandling.
Thus the Youth does at length prevail.

VI.
Let us Jenny, now, by thy Brow,
Thy tempting bonny Brow,
Let us Jenny, to Cupid Vow;
That as long as out Youth shall last,
All our Joys we'll double,
(Kisses are no trouble)
But are Sweet-meats to the taste:
We will discover, before that we give over,
To each Fainting Lover,
How our Days have in pleasure past.


Printed for J. Millet, at the Angel in Little-Britain. 168[9?]

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