Page:Keys of love (2).pdf/7

[7] Could I obtain her favour,

Who's won my heart for ever,

But in vain I fear my labour,

She being a Lady born.

But my birth it would degrade her,

But yet I'm bound to love her,

Becaue he is o clever,

I am but a farmer's on.

As the wain was thus complaining,

His darling was concealed,

Into a hady bower,

Near to a myrtle grove,

Where Cupid's bow and quiver,

It 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,

I 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.





OOD ale comes and good ale goes,

good ale gart me ell my hoe,