A New
SONG:
OR,
The Old Womans Wish.
To the Tune of the Old Mans Wish.
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I.
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SInce Beauty now fails
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And I find I decay,
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Let this be my Wish;
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In a Chimney not gay,
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May I have a warme corner
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And a Bench that's compleat
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And a cleanly young Wench
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To sweep the Hearth neat
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May I govern the Young
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By my wholesome advice;
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And as older, grow nearer
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To be Stil'd prophetess;
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Without pride, yet my name
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Than the Sibills not less
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II.
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In a Garden that's furnish'd
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With herbs for the Still,
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And a bed of choice Sallets,
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Which I weed at my will;
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With a spacious Meade,
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And a delicate Cow
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And an Arbour to set
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And heare Colly to low.
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May I govern the Young etc.
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III.
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With a boild Chick on Sunday,
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And a Dumpling that's soft,
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And a full teeming Jug,
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With a motto that Oft
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May have puzzled the learnd,
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By the Old Sages writ;
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Which in Letters of blew,
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Is stain'd round about it.
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May I govern the Young etc.
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IV.
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With a Book of Feat tales,
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And a pleasant Old Story's
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And riddles by Saxons made
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Long lived before us:
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With a dish of Minc'd Meat,
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Or Pigs Pettitoes;
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No gristles nor Brawn,
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To give dangerous blows.
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May I govern the Young etc.
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V.
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With a Conscience untainted,
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May I pass my last day,
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And when I am gon,
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May the good Women say
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In the Morning at mattens,
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In the E'en at her Ale,
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She's gon, and he's happy
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Can tell out her tale:
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For she govern'd the Young
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By her wholesome advice;
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And as older grew nearer,
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To be stil'd prophetess;
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Without pride, yet her name
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Then the Sibils not less.
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