Page:Keys of love (1).pdf/7

( 7 ) As the wain was then complaining,

His darling was concealing,

a hade bewailing,

Near to a myrtle grove,

Where Cupid’s bow and quiver,

made her heart to hiver,

And like a wounded lover,

Thee words to him he aid,

How can I thus be cruel,

To you my deart jewel!

love you above all meaure,

Since that my heart you’ve won;

There’s gold and ilver bright,

For you my heart’s delight,

And before to morrow’s night,

I’ll embrace my Farmer’s Son.



Rambled about a twelvemonth I vow,

in earch of a damlel for life,

For roving perplex'd me I could not tell how,

o I ventur'd at lat on a wife.

The girls of the town each rake mut well know,

imbitters the pleaures of life,

For evils on evils will conantly flow,

and makes us all wih for a wife.

A mitres it's true that's pleaing and gay,

may weeten the troubles of life;

For evils on evils will contantly flow,

but what i all this to a wife?