A New SONG.
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THERE was a man in Oxford,
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He was a Squires son,
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He kept a handsome housekeeper,
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Whom he long doated on;
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He often takes her by the hand,
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Fetching a sigh and cry,
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O love me my dear Molly,
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Its for you love I die.
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With oaths and protestations
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He made a solemn vow,
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With many admirations,
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But mark good people how;
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Then Molly being entangled,
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In fickle Cupids snare,
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He quickly got to bed to her,
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As you the truth shall hear.
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Poor Molly provd with child,
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And when he the same did know,
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He quickly changd his mind,
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And to another he would go:
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To one that had more wealth than her,
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And when she knew it then,
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She said I find unto my grief,
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Their is deceit in men.
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Her father was not willing,
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That she should married be,
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Because she was an Heiress,
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And so they did agree;
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To marry the next morning,
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Before the break of day,
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They were to meet at the church door,
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Before the hour of three.
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Then Molly being told;
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By one that was her friend,
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O then, says she, if this be true,
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Hell surely me offend;
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But I will come up with him
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For all his treachery,
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For all the tricks that he has done,
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Ill fit him to a tee.
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Then Molly sent a letter,
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And seald it with her hand,
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And gave it to the lady,
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To let her understand;
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Her love was taken very sick,
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Therefore my dear I pray,
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That you will put the wedding off,
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Until another day.
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With a mask upon her head
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To the church she did repair,
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Just at the hour appointed,
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Met the Parson and the Squire:
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He took her into church,
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They were married speedily,
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He took her up behind him,
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And homeward they did hie.
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Then going to his stately steed,
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To take his lovely bride,
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Who when he brought her to the door,
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O then he thus replied;
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Youre welcome now my dear, said he,
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To your own habitation,
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Then going to salute her,
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He started in a passion:
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Oh! hang me what have I done,
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And started in a fright,
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O no my dear, said she,
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Youve done the thing thats right;
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You cunningly deceived me,
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When my maidenhead you got,
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But now if youll believe me,
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Youre fitted for your plot.
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