Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/335

 Sawney was tall and of Noble Race, And lov'd me better than any eane; But now he ligs by another Lass, And Sawney will ne'er be my love agen: I gave him fine Scotch Sarke and Band, I put 'em on with mine own hand; I gave him House, and I gave him Land, Yet Sawney will ne'er be my Love agen.

I robb'd the Groves of all their store, And Nosegays made to give Sawney one; He kiss'd my Breast and feign would do mere, Geud feth me thought he was a bonny one: He squeez'd my fingers, grasp'd my knee, And carv'd my Name on each green Tree, And sigh'd and languish'd to lig by me, Yet now he wo'not be my Love agen.

My Bongrace and my Sun-burnt-face, He prais'd, and also my Russet Gown; But now he doats on the Copper Lace, Of some leud Quean of London Town: He gangs and gives her Curds and Cream, Whilst I poor Soul sit sighing at heam, And near joy Sawney unless in a Dream, For now he ne'er will be my Love again.