A pleasant new Song, if youle heare it, you may,
Of a North-country-Lasse that had lost her way.
To a new Court tune.
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WIthin the North countrey,
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as true report doth yeeld.
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There stands an ancient country towne,
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is called mery Wakefield.
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Within this Country towne,
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a lively lasse doth dwell,
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She goes unto the marketplace
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her huswifery to sell.
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And walking all alone
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upon a certaine day,
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For to be short, it so fell out
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this faire maid lost her way.
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So wandring all alone
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upon the hill so high,
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At last it was her luckly chance
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a Shepheard for to spye.
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Was sitting all alone,
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upon the mountaine top,
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Singing bravely under a bush,
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and viewing of his flocke.
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To him this fayre maid hyed,
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and over the hils crost:
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That he might put her in the way,
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which she so long had lost.
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So walking thus apace,
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at length she came him nie,
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Whereas he sate under a bush,
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and did him curtesie.
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God speed Shepheard she said,
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mery day to thee God send,
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I am undone Shepheard she said,
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if you stand not my friend.
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I going am quoth she,
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unto yon market towne,
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But by mischance have lost my way
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upon this hilly downe.
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I wandring here have beene,
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ere since twas breake of day:
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Yet could I never finde which was
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to mee the nearest way,
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The Shepheard then replyde,
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faire maid sit downe a while,
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And Ile shew you the nearest way,
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at least by halfe a mile.
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O no Shepheard she said,
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if I should stay here long.
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I should not reach the market towne,
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till all the market's done.
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Feare not the Shepheard said,
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but sit thou on this grasse.
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For thou shalt heare my Bag-pipes goe
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before thou further passe.
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So downe the Maiden sate,
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the Shepheard sate here by,
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And then he pluckt his bag-pipes forth
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and plaid melodiously.
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The second part. To the same tune.
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HE plaied her such a fit,
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it made her bravely sing:
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The musicke of his Bag-pipes sound
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made all the vallyes ring.
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When that his winde was spent,
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and he grew somewhat weary:
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He told her which way she should goe,
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and passe over no ferry.
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Shepheard Shepheard, she said,
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if reason may permit,
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Come play that lesson once againe,
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I may it not forget.
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Then at the Maids request,
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although it griev'd him sore,
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He plaid it over twice as long
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as he had done before.
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Then did she take her leave,
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yet loath she was to part,
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Although I goe, Shepherd she said,
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Ile leave with thee my heart.
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Faire well Shepheard she said,
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adew, nay twice adew:
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If ere I chance to lose my way,
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Ile come againe to you.
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The Shepheard then replyde,
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O no, O no not so
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You shall taste some of my browne beere,
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ere that you further goe.
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And some of my white loafe,
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and some of my greene cheese,
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If I should stay, the maid replide,
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the market I should leese.
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And then my Dame quoth shee,
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will storme, and swear and frowne,
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If I sell not my huswifery
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before that I come home.
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What is your huswifery,
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faire maiden shew to me:
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Two payre of stockings she replyde:
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Come buy them now of me.
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What is the price quoth he,
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of this your huswifery?
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Halfe a crowne the maiden said.
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Hold take here is thy money.
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The lasse she was so glad,
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her huswifery was sold,
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To stay longer Shepheard she said,
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I dare be somewhat bold.
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So downe she sate againe,
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untill the day was spent:
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And he had folded up his Sheepe,
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then both together went.
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Each to his severall home.
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where what became of them,
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I doe not know, and therefore now
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here will I stay my pen.
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