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EBBA 30578

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
The Combers Whistle
OR,
The Sport of the Spring.
Th[i]s story plain will m[a]ke appear,
What mettle-men the Combers are,
And that they are no whit afraid,
To entertain a pretty Maid;
The pleasant time in mirth they spent,
Whereas he gave her good content.
Tune of, The Carmans Whistle. With Allowance, Ro. LEstrange.

ALL in a pleasant Morning,
in the Merry Month of May;
Walking the fragrant Meadows,
where the Comber took his way:And viewing round about him,
whereas he did remain;
At length he spyed a fair Maid,
upon the flowry Plain.

So chearful was her countenance,
and lovely to behold,
She seemd as if that Venus fair,
was of the self same Mold.
And many a smirk, and smile she gave,
all in the Meadows green,
I could compare her unto none,
but unto Loves fair Queen.

At length she turnd her smiling
into a love-sick song,
Lamenting of her woful chance,
she staid a Maid so long:Theres many that are younger
then I, that have been wed;
Yet still I fear that I shall dye,
and keep my Maiden-head.

My Fathers rich and wealthy,
and hath no Child but I;
But still I want a Husband,
to keep me company:My years are young and tender,
and I am fair and tall,
Yet there is never a young man,
will comfort me at all.

THe blossoms of my beauty,
I think may well invite,
Some Batchelor of fortune good,
to take me for his right;
For why I dare presume it,
theres few doth me excell,
As it is manifest and plain,
to all that know me well.

How happy are those Virgins all,
that in the City throng,
For they have Sweet-hearts plenty,
and ner live single long;
Which makes me grieve so sadly,
that yet I am not sped,
For in plain terms, to tell you true;
I long for to be wed.

This Comber he stood listning,
to hear her make such moan,
His heart was sorely grieved,
to see her all alone;
He quickly stept unto her, and with a joyful cheer,
Quoth he fair Maid I chanced,
your mournful Song to hear.

And now Im come to ease you
of all your grief and pain,
For why, I well can please you,
by Whistling of a strain;
Quoth she I long to hear it,
so well that you can play,
Then prithee go about it straight,
because I hate delay.

Then he pulld forth his Whistle
and plaid a note or two;
The Maid she was so over-joyd,
she knew not what to do:And well she was contented,
with him to bear a part,
A blessing said this Maiden fair,
light on this Combers heart.

Quoth she, I prithee tell me,
where didst thou learn this game,
It was a young brisk Journey-man
that made it for his Dame.
With which he oft did please her,
as she to him did say,
And chargd him that she should not see,
the Whistle made away.

Then she did him desire
one other Tune to play,
Which made her so admire
she thus to him did say:Of all the pleasant Musick
that ever I did know;
The Combers merry Whistle,
shall for my money go.

O when shall we two meet again,
for pleasure and delight?
At any time or season,
by day, or eke by night:Then count me very slothful,
if that you send for me,
When as I fail to meet my Dear:
so take these Kisses three.


Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.

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