BUXOM JOAN.
An Excellent New SONG.
Sung with a pleasant new Tune.
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A Soldier and a Saylor,
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A Tinker and a Taylor,
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Had once a doubtful strife, Sir,
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To make a Maid a Wife, Sir,
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Whose Name was buxom Joan,
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Whose Name was buxom Joan.
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And now the time being ended,
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When she no more intended
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To lick her Lips at Men, Sir,
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Or gnaw the Sheets in vain, Sir,
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Or ly the Nights alone,
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Or ly the Nights alone.
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The Soldier swore like Thunder,
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He lov'd her more than Plunder,
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And shew'd her many a Scar, Sir,
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Which he had brought from far, Sir,
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In fighting for her sake,
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In fighting for her sake.
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The Taylor thought to please her,
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By offering her his Measure;
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The Tinker came with Mettle,
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Said he cou'd mend her Kettle,
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And stop up every lake,
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And stop up every lake.
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But whilest these three were prating,
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The Saylor slily waiting,
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Thought if it came about, Sir,
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That they should all fall out, Sir,
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Then he might play his part,
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Then he might play his part,
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And just even as he meant, Sir,
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To Loger-heads they went, Sir,
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And then he let fly at her
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A shot 'twixt W---d and W---r,
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And won this fair Maids Heart[,]
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And won this fair Maids Heart[.]
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The Scoffle being over,
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To Courting went each Lover:
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But Joan did from them fly, Sir,
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And did all Three deny, Sir,
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And said she lov'd but one,
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And said she lov'd but one.
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No Soldier ere should gain her,
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No Tinker ere obtain her,
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No Tinker with his Shears, Sir,
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Tho' he pricks up his Ears, Sir,
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Of these she would have none,
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Of these she would have none.
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The Soldier might go Battle,
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The Tinker might go Rattle,
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The Taylor with his Measure,
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Joan knew he ne'er could please her,
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So bid them all farewel,
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So bid them all farewel.
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They star'd with bloody Noses,
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Whilst Joan with Cheeks like Roses,
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Took the Saylor by the Hand, Sir,
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And said, this is the Man, Sir,
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Has pleas'd me wondrous well,
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Has pleas'd me wondrous well.
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