THE London Lasses Vindication: OR, THEIR Just Resentment against Country Milk maids:
Shewing how many of them, for their singular Vertues, have become La-dies and Mistresses of great Fortunes, by Marrying their Masters, etc.
To the Tune of, The Milking-pail.
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THe Country Damsels boast,
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That they are admir'd most,
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Yet nevertheless,
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The truth to express,
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Rich London shall rule the roast;
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'Tis very well known,
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Kate, Bridget, and Joan,
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Are rusty, coarse, and brown,
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With loads they bear,
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Through scorching air;
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Thus I declare,
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They can't compare
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With Lasses of London-Town.
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There's many a milking Lass,
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Is tumbl'd upon the grass,
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Both morning and night,
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In pleasant delight,
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And often it comes to pass,
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Their bellies do swell,
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Then Nancy and Nell,
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Poor Creatures, do look down;
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With grief and woe,
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Their eyes do flow,
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At length we know,
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For Maids they go
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When ever they come to Town.
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When Luna is in the full,
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Those innocent Milk-maids will,
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Indeavour to make,
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Some willing mistake,
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And commonly stroke the bull;
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They'll frolick and play,
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As well upon hay,
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As on soft beds of down;
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They know 'tis true,
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Kate, Joan, and Prue,
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And smiling Sue,
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Will all out-do
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The Lasses of London-Town.
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They feed upon salted swine,
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Which makes them the more encline,
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To follow the sport,
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But we near the Court,
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Have delicate dishes fine,
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Most pleasing and sweet,
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Which when we have eat,
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We lodge on beds of down,
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To take our ease,
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Rise when we please,
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Such things as these,
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Always agrees
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With Lasses of London-Town.
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There's many a noble Knight,
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Has honour'd a Beauty bright,
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And made her his own,
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Tho' wealth she had none;
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Pray who has these charms of might?
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No butter-milk Maid,
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Who follows the trade,
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Of kissing e'ry Clown;
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But such as they,
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Who e'ry day,
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In rich array,
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Their plums display,
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Young Lasses of London-Town.
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What honour did e'er assail
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The Country milking-pail?
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What Spark can devote,
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His fancy to dote
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On Dorothy's dragle tail?
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When beautiful charms,
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May lodg in his arms,
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Of she that cannot frown;
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Not milking-pails,
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But sprightly Girls,
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That deck'd with pearls,
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For Knights and Earls,
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Young Lasses of Lodon-Town.
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Among many Girls of fame,
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Young beautiful Nan by name,
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Who being well breed,
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Her Master did wed,
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And now she's a stately Dame:
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What Country Kate
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Was ever so great,
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That trudges up and down?
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'Tis beauty bright,
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That does invite,
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Duke, Lord, or Knight,
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To the delight-
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Full Lasses of London-Town.
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