The merry Maid of Middlesex.
OR,
A pretty Song made by a pretty Maid,
Which had seven Suitors, she her self so said,
And yet (poor soul) she hath been strangely crost,
And through her Mothers means, her Sweet. heart's lost:
But yet she is resolved in this Sonnet,
To have a Husband, whatsoer'e comes on it.
To a dilicate Northern Tune: Or,
The Maid that lost her way.
IT was not long agone
since
Cupid with his Dart,
Shot through my tender skin,
and prickt my love-sick heart
And since that desprate time,
I am so love-sick grown,
I neither can nor will
no longer lye alone:
Let Father angry be▪
let mother brawl, and chide,
A Husband I will have,
what ever me betide,
It is well known that I
am fiftéen years of age,
Yet live as weary a life,
as a Bird pen'd in a Cage.
Therefore Young-men I pray,
give eare unto my Song,
And you shall know in what,
my Parents did me wrong:
But now let Father frown, &c.
Seven Suitors in one day,
unto me came a wooing,
And every one of them would
fain with me be doing:
First
Will the Weaver came
with Silks & Ribonds brave,
And out of his pure love,
these Tokens to me gave,
Let Father fret and frown, &c.
Full many a honied kisse
the Weaver did me give,
Which was enough to make
a dying Maid to live:
But yet my Parents would
not give me their consent,
That I should marry with him,
which makes me to lament.
But now let Father frown,
let Mother brawl, and chide,
A Husband I will have
what ever me betide.
The▪second part,
to the same Tune.
NOexe
Tom the Taylor trim,
he brought me a brave new gown
And wōld have gave it me
for to have laid me down,
My Mother▪ standind by,
would not thereto agrée,
whereby I did both lose my gown
and swéet-heart, woe is me.
But now let Father frown,
let Mother brawl and chide:
A Husband I will have,
what ever me betide,
Then
Sam the Shoo-maker
brought me a pair of shooes
To sit my pretty féet
as he did often use:
But at the drawing on
his hand by chance did slip,
Which made my Mother vex,
and sorely bite the Lip,
But now let Father greive, &c.
George Glover he gave me
a pair of dainty Gloves,
Such as your bravest Batchlors
do use to give their Loves;
And therewithal kind heart,
he kist me tenderly:
And then my Mother she did soon
break up our company.
But now let Father angery be, &c.
There came a bonny Lad,
a Vintner neat and fine,
And in his hand he brought
a bottle of Muskadine,
And bad me for to drink
as long as I could pull:
For he had an intent
to fill my belly full:
At which my Mother she
began to frown and chide,
Yet I will have a Husband
what ever me betide.
A nimble Tapster next
gave me a gay gold Ring,
And promised to bestow
on me a better thing:
But in the bringing he
had wondrous ill luck,
My Mother she did chance to sée
and would not let us truck.
But now let Father frown, &c.
Then came a noble Spark,
a Souldier stout and bold,
And quickly cast into my lap
full sevenscore pound in gold
O he was a brave Young-man,
I lov'd him as my life:
& yet my Mother she would not
now let me be his Wife.
But now let Father frown, &c.
The Cobler he poor fool,
fell sick and néeds must dye,
Except my Love would grant
him love, as a remedy:
Cobler my Mother said,
you have of late béen dipt,
Before you shall my Daughter have
Ile sée you soundly whipt.
But now let Father frown, &c.
A Maiden-head it is a load
too heavy for me to carry;
Therefore I will make all the spéed
that ever I can to marry,
No matter for his wealth
nor Trade, what er'e it be,
For I will dearly love the Man
if he could fancy me.
So now you know my mind,
although my Mother chide,
A Husband I must have,
what ever me betide.
FINIS.
London, Printed by E. Crowch, for F. Coles, T. Vere, & J. Wright.