Page:Belfast maid's lamentation for the loss of her sweetheart.pdf/5

 Mammy; mammy; I long to be a bride,

To have a luſty young man to ly by any ſide;

For it is well know, I am a woman grown,

And 'tis a pity one ſo pretty as I ſhould ly alone.

O daughter I was fifteen before that I was wed,

And I was ne'er tired of my ſweet maidenhead.

O mammy that may be, but 'tis not ſo with me,

I'm young and airy, almoſt weary, I can't ly alone.

O daughter, daughter, I'll pull your courage down,

And with hard labour pull off your ſack & gown,

And ſend you each day to the fields a making hay,

O daughter, loving daughter, then perhaps you may.

I pray don't ſend me to the fields, for young men

Are tempting, I perhaps may yield to the thing

I would not do, nor dare not for to name,

But tell me, loving mother, what can young men mean.

Whiſtle, daughter, whiſtle, & you ſhall have a ſheep,

I cannot whiſtle, mother, nor neither can I ſleep,

My maidenhead, I ſwear, it fills my heart with care,

'Tis a burden, heavy burden, more than I can bear.

Whiſtle, daughter, whiſtle, & you ſhall have a cow,

I cannot whiſtle, mother, neither will I now,

My maidenhead, I ſwear, it fills my heart with care,

'Tis a burden, heavy burden, more than I can bear.

Whiſtle, daughter, whiſtle, and you ſhall have a man,

Tol de rol dary, don't you hear I can,

Silence, huſſey, what makes you whiſtle now?

'Cauſe mam, I love a mam better than ſheep or cow.