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EBBA 32822

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
ROGER and MARY:
Or, the loving Couple in a great Engagement.
Rogers true love to his Mary
Did not in the least miscarry;
He Souldier-like besiegd and enterd,
And had the prize for which he venturd.
Tune of, Moggies Jealousie.

AS Roger and Mary were toyling
The length of a hot Summers day
A Rakeing and swetting and broyling,
And shaking and turning the Hay,
Quoth Roger, I prethee dear Mary
Lets lay us down under this Coek
For I do begin to be weary
And there let us take a sweet nog

But first they examind the bottle
Before they began to repose
And Mary was scratching his noddle
And he was got under her cloths:

Good faith quoth he Mary ile tell thee
Tis woundy full hot in this place
For thou art ene all of a jelly
As plain as the nose on my face.

Quoth Mary to help out the matter
The weather is hot you know that
Besides I am plumper and fatter
Then Sarah that little starvd Rat
In all the hard Frost I can tell thee
The very same slippery place
Was never without a great jelly
As plain as the nose on your face.

I thought the low Countries, quoth he then
Was all the time frozen ile swear:
But you were mistaken, quoth she then,
The devil a Frost ere came there,
when all elsewhere was frozen from rowing
And in a most pittiful case,
That alwaies was open and flowing,
As plain as the nose on your face.

Im sure yet (quoth Hodge its all Boggy,
A Quagmire like shivering ground,
And still it is fullsome and foggy,
And forever the place may be drownd.
Quoth she, if a Sot have commanding
The Country may come to disgrace,
And drownd for a time notwithstanding.
As plain as the Nose on your face.

As all this time Mary was gropeing
And fumbling about Rogers Head,
The sluces began for to open,
The gates of themselves they did spread:
Gods bobs then quoth Robin ile tell it
And swear to it in any place,
The low Countries drownd, I do smell it
As plain as the Nose on my face.

Then Roger his courage did rally,
And manfully fell to his work,
And at the main breach made a sally,
And plyd on his thrust like a Turk;
But Roger alas was confounded,
The breach was so deep at that place,
That poor Roger quickly was drowned,
As plain as the Nose on his face.

When Mary had found the disaster,
That Roger could do no more work,
For Hodge decayd faster and faster,
And sneaking away he did lurk:
For which she was wondrous civil,
She would not the Lobcock disgrace,
But bid him go pack to the Devil
As plain as the Nose on his face.


LONDON:
Printed for P. Brooksby at the golden
ball in Py-corner.

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