The Politick Countreyman.
Plainly setting forth the many misfortunes of those men who have
mist of their aims in choosing a wife, also discovering the vast difference be-
tween the London Mistrisses and the Country Dames.
Tune of, Hey boys up go we, Or, Jenny Gin.
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SInce Women they are grown so bad
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I'le lead a single life,
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Not one in ten there's to be had
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will make a careful wife:
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Therefore I think 'tis best for me
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single for to remain,
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For some are bound and would be free,
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but wishes are in vain.
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One man he hath a scolding wife,
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that ne'r will quiet be;
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But wearies him out of his life:
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oh! what ill luck had he
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To marry one whose wicked tongue
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doth cause him to complain,
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But knows not how to ease his wrong
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since mourning is [i]n vain.
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Another hath a drunken wife
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that spends all she comes near,
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And drunkenness oft breedeth strife,
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it plainly doth appear:
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And let him chide her all he can,
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a Sott she will remain,
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And he cannot be freed again,
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all vexing is in vain.
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Another hath a wanton one,
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whose lust he can't suffice;
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And good men are too oft undone
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by such, whose rowling eyes
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On all men gaze; as if they could
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by looks their wills obtain,
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And never will do what they should:
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good Counsel is in vain.
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Another hath an idle pack
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that will not get her Bread,
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Nor keep good Clothes upon her back,
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but loves to lie in bed:
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Good Counsel she doth still refuse,
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reproof she doth disdain,
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Her friends she strangely will abuse
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that checks her, though in vain.
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But he that with a Slut doth meet
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hath the worst luck of all,
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She stinks as she doth walk the street,
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her nasty beast they call:
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And if you strive to make her neat,
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then will she scold amain;
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That with her you dare hardly eat,
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to help this 'tis in vain.
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Then you that have good careful wives
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esteem them as a prize,
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Tender them as you do your lives,
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or Apples of your eyes:
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For it a certain Treasure proves,
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and love will there remain,
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There's nothing that their love removes;
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all strivings are in vain.
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Oh! give to me the Countrey lass
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that loves the Milking-paile,
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For she'l be constant, and alas!
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nought can with her prevail:
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She loves the man that drives the Plow,
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and sometimes sowes the grain,
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He that to her doth make a vow
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his love is not in vain.
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The lusty lad that stoutly Bows,
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he loves the Dayry maid;
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She's constant, wheresoe're she goes
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no wantonness is played:
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All looseness she doth clear despise.
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and looseness doth disdain,
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The Plowman she doth Idolize,
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she loves, but not in vain.
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Now to conclude, and speak my mind,
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pray count it not a jest;
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Observe, and you shall clearly find
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a Countrey lass is best:
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For she is clear, without deceit,
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and constant will remain;
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He that with such a girle doth meet
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his love is not in vain.
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