The merry Carelesse Lover:
OR,
A pleasant new Ditty, called, I love a Lasse since yesterday,
And yet I cannot get her.
To the tune of, The Mother beguilde the Daughter.
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OFt have I heard of many men,
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which love have sore tormented,
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With griefe of heart, and bitter smart,
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and mindes much discontented.
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Such love to me shall never be
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distastefull, grievous bitter.
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I have loved a Lasse since yesterday,
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and yet I cannot get her.
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But let her chuse, if she refuse,
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and goe to take another:
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I will not grieve, but still will be
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the merry carelesse Lover.
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I will no foolish Lover be,
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to waste my meanes upon her:
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But if she doe prove firme to me,
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in heart I will her honour.
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And if she scorne my part to take,
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I know a way to fit her,
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My heart with griefe shall never ake,
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what man soever get her.
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Then let her chuse, if she refuse,
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and goe to take another, etc.
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And yet I know not what to thinke,
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she makes a shew she loves me,
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What need I feare from me shel shrinke,
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some foolish passion mooves me,
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Sometimes to hope, sometimes to feare,
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it hangs upon a Twitter,
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Whether she hates or loves me deare,
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to lose her, or to get her.
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But let her chuse, if she refuse etc.
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Some women they are in firme in love,
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and some they are uncertaine
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Scarce one in twenty loyall prove,
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yet if it were my fortune
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To get this Lasse unto my wife,
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I know not one more fitter,
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In lawfull love to leade one lives,
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if twere my hap to get her.
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But let her chuse, etc.
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I am a man indifferent,
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whether she will or will not
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My Sweet-heart be for to love me,
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if she dos not, it skills not.
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If she fancy me, Ile constant be,
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this Lasse she is a Knitter.
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And I have her loved since yesterday,
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but yet I cannot get her.
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But let her chuse, if she refuse,
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and goe to take another,
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Ile never grieve, but still will be
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the merry careless Lover.
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The second part, To the same tune.
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THis Lasse she doth in Yorkeshire live,
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there in a Towne calld Forset,
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Her minde to labour she doth give,
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she can knit Silke or Worset.
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I know not well what I should say,
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in speech shes sometimes bitter,
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And I have her loved since yesterday,
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and yet I cannot get he.
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But let her chuse, if she refuse,
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And goe to take another,
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Ile never grieve, but still will be
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the merry carelesse Lover.
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Sometimes she will upon me smile,
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and sometimes she is sullen,
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As she doth fit, and Stockins knits,
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of Jarsie and of Wollen,
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She gets the praise above the rest,
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to be a curious Knitter:
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She loves me, as she doth professe,
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and yet I cannot get her.
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But let her chuse, etc.
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Her Portion is not very much,
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but for the same what care I,
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So she with me will but keepe touch,
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and not in minde will vary,
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For pelfe I doe not passe a straw,
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her beauty likes me better,
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For I have her loved since yesterday,
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and yet I cannot get her.
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But let her chuse, etc.
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I will bethinke me what is best
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a way for to be taken,
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Her love to gaine, and her obtaine,
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I would not be forsaken,
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Nor would I have her say me nay,
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nor give me speeches bitter,
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For I have her loved since yesterday,
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and yet I cannot get her.
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But let her chuse, etc.
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I have her Fathers free consent,
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that she with me should marry:
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Her Mother likewise is content,
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and grieves that she should carry
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So prouds a minde, or be unkinde
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to me in speeches bitter,
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For I beare to her a loving minde,
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and yet I cannot get her.
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But let her chuse, etc.
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With her I at a Wedding was,
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where we did dance together,
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She is a curious handsome Lasse,
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and yet like winds and weather,
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Her minde doth change, shes kinde, shes strange,
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milde, gentle, cruell, bitter,
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Yet howsoere I love her deare,
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and yet I cannot get her.
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But let her chuse, etc.
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Yet will I hope upon the best,
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all foolish feares excluding,
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And at her faithfull service rest,
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thus here in briefe concluding,
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With some deare friend to her Ile send,
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a kind and loving letter,
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And hope in time her love to gaine,
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and for my Wife to get her.
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And then Ile sing with merry cheere,
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this Ditty and no other,
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Whilst breath doth last, and life be past,
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I will be a faithfull Lover.
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