Oxfordshire Damosel,
Or, The London MERCHANTS Choice.
Her Beauty Bright was his Delight,
But yet she said him nay,
She would not yield to him the Field,
Till Marriage made the way.
To the Tune of, The Jobb for a Journey-man-Shoomaker.
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THere was as Fine a London Blade,
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as ever trod on Leather,
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Most sumptuously he was arrayd,
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his Wigg, his Hat and Feather:
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His Rapier hanging his by side,
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well mounted on a Gelding,
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To Oxford City he would Ride,
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to view the antient Building.
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But he no sooner was come there
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in all his Pomp and Glory
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When meeting with a Damsel fair,
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a sweet and Pleasant Story.
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To her he freely did unfold,
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her Love to gain the sooner,
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He shewd her handfuls of his Gold,
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to bring her into humour.
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He then began to Complement,
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and sweetly to embrace her,
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The Damsel would not give consent,
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that he should ere disgrace her
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Her modest mind was not inclind,
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nor in the least was leaning
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Unto his will, but answerd still,
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she did not know his meaning.
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My Love said he, let me enjoy
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with thee a moments pleasure,
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My sweetest creature be not coy,
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thou shalt not want for treasure:
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All night within my folded arms,
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my Love shall lye and slumber,
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With many sweet delightful charms,
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and kisses out of number.
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Said she your proffer I disdain,
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good Sir I pray be civil,
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Indeed you now are much too blame,
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to tempt a maid to evil,
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Forbear to talk at such a rate.
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discretion has endud me,
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It is not your enchanted bait,
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that ever shall delude me.
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Kind Sir I pray now let me go,
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I strange and do admire,
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That you should seek my overthrow,
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to please your fond desire,
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If there in me be any truth,
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I am resolvd to tarry
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Ile never pleasure any youth,
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but those with whom I marry.
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The Damsel thsu declard her mind,
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then without molestation,
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His heart was more and more inclind,
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he stood in Admiration:
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The lustre of her Beauty fair,
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his heart had so inflamed,
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That he was caught in Cupids snare,
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before her love he gained.
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My dearest Love I thee adore,
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if thou canst freely love me,
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I set by thee such mighty store,
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I fancy none above thee:
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With thee I mean to live and dye,
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thou sweet and lovely creature,
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Thou art a jewel in mine eye,
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no Lady more Compleater.
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She could no longer say him no,
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and now to end the quarrel,
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In Love they both together go,
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to buy her Rich Apparrel:
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She looked like a sumptuous Dame,
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in all her rich attire,
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Her beauty flew on wings of Fame,
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his Friends did all admire.
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She was indeed an honest Girl,
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and of a modest carriage,
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He prizd her more then Gold or Pearl,
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and joynd with her in Marriage:
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Now may she lead as sweet a life,
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as she is fair and Pritty,
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For now she is a Merchants Wife,
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of London Famous City.
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