The Northern Ladd:
OR, The Fair Maids Choice.
Who Refus'd all for a Plowman, counting herself therein most Happy.
A Country Lass who many suitors had,
Some good, some mean, the worst of them not bad;
A Weaver, Taylor, Shoo-maker, first came,
With many more of ample note and fame:
A Barber, Baker, Miller, and the like,
Yet unto none of those her Sails she'd strike:
But in a Rustick she is only pleas'd,
A Plowman only has her fancy eas'd.
To the Tune of, There was a Lass in Cumberland, etc.
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I Am a Lass o'th North Country,
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and I was born and bred a whome;
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Many a Lad has Courted me,
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and swore that they to wooe me come:
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But to bed to me, to bed to me,
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the Lad that gangs to bed with me;
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A jovial Plowman must he be,
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the Lad that comes to bed to me.
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The first that came with Breeches trim,
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a Weaver was most neatly drest,
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But I alas wou'd none of him,
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whilst Weavers on Sheep-heads do feast.
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But to bed to me, etc.
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For Heads and Horns are wemish meat,
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to serve a Lass of my degree,
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Who Beef and Bacon always eat,
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therefore he is no meat for me;
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But to bed to me, etc.
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The next a Taylor was so fine,
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with Slash, and Slits and Cap-a-pee,
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Who scrap'd, & cring'd, & said he's mine,
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and that he fain would ligg with me:
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But to bed to me, to bed to me,
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the Lad that comes to bed to me,
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A lusty Plowman may he be,
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the Lad that bumps the bed with me.
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HE whispering told me he wou'd mend,
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a slit I had to my content,
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But saucy Prick-louse did offend,
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so to be stitch'd I'le not consent:
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For to bed to me, to bed to me,
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the Lad that gangs to bed to me,
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A bonny Plowman must he be,
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the Lad that shakes the Sheets with me.
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A Shoo-maker came jumping in,
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who plainly did his suit declare,
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And did my foot to squeeze begin,
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and on them press'd of Shoon a pair:
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But to bed to me, etc.
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He tickled me about the Knee,
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and told me it was his request,
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To live, to love, and wa'd with me,
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and I'se shou'd be of wealth possest:
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But to bed to me, etc.
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But these fine toys did not prevail,
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tho' spruce and fine with powder'd Locks
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Nay, tho' he Two-pence spent in Ale,
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he cou'd no catch me in his stocks:
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For to bed to me, etc.
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A Barber-Surgeon came to me,
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whom I did take in great disdain,
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He said his art I soon should see,
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for he would prick my master-Vein:
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But to bed to me, etc.
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But I repell'd his rude address,
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and told him 'twas my greatest cares,
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If wa'd a lowsie A-Snip, alas,
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when he's incens'd should keep my ears.
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But to bed to me, to bed to me,
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the man that comes bed to me,
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An honest Plowman must he be,
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the Lad that is embrac'd by me.
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A Baker next who call'd me Cozen,
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did beg for one salute of me,
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Presenting straight French Roals a dozen,
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but's Neck was warp'd with Pillory:
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Oh! to bed to me, etc.
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And then a Miller who for cogging,
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for thieving and such like with's Bowl;
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Upon his Horse came softly jogging,
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who lighting straight demanded Cole.
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But to bed to me, etc.
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He told me I was his by right,
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whereat I smil'd disdainfully;
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Your Stones said I are ruin'd quite,
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therefore expect no more of me.
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But to bed to me, etc.
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A Plowman is the jovial Lad,
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who still despises grief and care,
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With him content and pleasure's had,
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with him a Rustick life I'le share:
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he shall came to bed to me, etc.
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I'se grasp him in my arms all night,
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and when the shades shall disappear,
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In pleasing Groves we'l take delight,
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and with sweet Songs each other chear:
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Oh to bed to me, etc.
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Come my dear when Nelly calls,
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O let us in this shady Grove,
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Now venture on what e're befalls,
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and quench the passion of my Love:
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Oh! to bed to me, to bed to me,
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when thou art come to bed to me,
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How happy then will Nelly be,
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when thou art come to bed to she.
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