THE
Merry Maid of Shoreditch,
Her Resolution and Good Counsel to all her Fellow Maids;
And says that she will never tye herself to a Crab-Tree so long as she has a whole Wood to
Range in.
The Tune is, I have a Mistris of my own: Or, Hold Buckle and Thong together.
|
YOu young Maids all, wheree're you be,
|
I pray you now come hear this ditty,
|
And I hope you will agree,
|
you cannot say but it is pretty:
|
I've lived a Maid these twenty years,
|
and never was no Young-mans Debtor,
|
Men are so full of Lyes and jears,
|
that a single Life it is the better.
|
A Young-man will wooe a pretty Maid,
|
and Swear, and Lye, and say he'l have her,
|
Until he hath her heart betray'd,
|
to get his will and so to leave her:
|
But young Maids you must be very wise,
|
for young-men they will you infetter,
|
They strive to make of you a prize,
|
but a single Life it is the better.
|
For whilst a Maid doth keep unwedd,
|
young men will give to her great honour,
|
But if she chance to bring a Knave to her Bed,
|
then he'l not care what does come on her:
|
But get her Children year by year,
|
and cross and vex, and strive to fret her,
|
For a Married Wife's ne'r out of care,
|
a single Life it is the better.
|
While a Maid lives a single life,
|
she may sit and talk with any stranger,
|
But after she is made a Wife
|
if she do the like there is great danger;
|
So maids if you can be content,
|
be not drawn into a young-mans fetter,
|
Least afterwards you do repent,
|
then to live single it is better.
|
THere is many a Maid that hath been wed,
|
both in Country, Town and City,
|
To careless Husbands, I am afraid,
|
which grieves their wives, the more's the pitty
|
Therefore young Maids let's have a care,
|
and believe no lyes that young-men flatter,
|
They spare no words they can devise,
|
but a single Life it is the better.
|
Young-men will shew great store of Love,
|
and have young maids drink wine and sherry,
|
And their hearts do within as rotten prove,
|
to give you drink to overcome you:
|
The Devil himself is not so false
|
as some men be, I will not Flatter,
|
To bring a maiden to their Bow,
|
but a single Life it is the better.
|
So Maidens that do live i'th row,
|
you must be careful of this matter,
|
I'de have you all for to do so,
|
and believe no young-men when they Flatter,
|
Besides they sweeten you up so brave,
|
with sugered kisses that will fetter,
|
And another thing if you will it have,
|
but a single Life it is more better.
|
There's scarce a young-man that is in ten,
|
that will prove Loyal to a Maiden,
|
But will prate and lye, and cogg and feign;
|
as though his heart with Love was laden;
|
But will dissemble more or less,
|
for to stand him when he charged,
|
And so undoes that silly Lass,
|
and then her trouble is enlarged.
|
Young Maidens all look too't in time,
|
when as you go for to Marry,
|
Besure to chuse an honest man,
|
or else you'd better longer tarry;
|
For an honest man will ne'r you wrong,
|
but a Knave will be to you a fretter,
|
It is quickly done, and long thought on,
|
for to live single you had better.
|
|
|
|
|
|