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« THE COUNTREY LASSE.
To a daintie new.note, which if
you can hit, There's another tune will as well fit.”
To the tune of, the mother beguild the daughter.
(From a black letter copy printed for the Assigns of
Although I am a country lass,
A lofty mind I bear-a,
That gay apparell weara,
Yet is my skin as soft-a,
Do bathe their bodies oft-a,
Heigh down a down a down a, A dery, dery, dery, dery down,
High down a down a dery.
What, though I keep my father's sheep,
A thing that must be done-a, A garland of the fairest flowers
Shall shroud me from the sun-a,
And when I see them feeding be,
Where grass and flowers spring, Close by a crystal fountain side,
I sit me down and sing-a.
Dame Nature crowns us with delight,
Surpassing court or city, We pleasures take from morn to night,
In sports and pastimes pretty :
Abroad for recreation,
And keep the country fashion.
Your city wives lead wanton lives,
And if they come in the country, They are so proud, that each one strives
For to outbrave our gentry. We country lasses homely be,
For seat nor wall we strive not, We are content with our degree,
Our debtors we deprive not.
I care not for the fan or mask,
When Titan's heat reflecteth, A homely hat is all I ask,
Which well my face protecteth,
Yet I am in my country guise,
Esteemed lass as pretty,
New shapes in court or city.
every season of the
My limbs I do not favour,
It makes me ne'er the sicker,
With a cup of Christmas liquor.
At Christmas time in mirth and glee
I dance with young men neatly, And who in the city like to me,
Shall surely taste completely, No sport, but pride and luxury
In the city can be found then, But bounteous hospitality
In the country doth abound then.
In the spring my labour yields delight,
To walk in the merry morning, When Flora is (to please my sight)
The ground with flowers adorning :
X. I si
ALDEN'S NAY, OR, I LOVE Dame
nymph trip over the plain,
cer, she turned again, Your cit
as a young man should do, Abroad
answer was, Sir, I love not you. We coun And ke
she seem'd in every part, Safram’d by Nature's art,
cauty soon allured me to woo, And if t
answer was, Sir, I love not you. They are so
her all the sweet of love, We country
whatever her mind might move, For seat in a lover true, We are contar answer was Sir, I love not you. Our debto
I her how I would her deck, I care not fored with gold, with pearls her neck, When Tita
heart I have vow'd so true, But her answer was, Sir, I love not you.
My sweet, and dearest love, quoth I,
This is the pleasant maying time,
will come and make you to rue, That e're you said, Sir, I love not you.
O do not thou my suit disdain, ,