Page:True hearted maiden.pdf/3

 What can be ſo ſtrong in the heart as true love, When deck'd in beauty by the powers above, It never will flatter, diſſemble, nor fly, With my love I'll live, with my true love I'll die.

Sweet country life is both pleaſant & charming, For to walk abroad in a fine ſummer's morning, Your houſes and cities, and lofty fine towers, Can never compare to the ſweet shady bowers.

O little do I admire your robes and fine dreſſes, Your ſilks, and your ſcarlets, and other exceſſes, For my own country clothing's to me more endearing, Than your pretty ſweet mantle, for my home-ſpun wearing.

No fiddle nor flute, no hautboy, or ſpinnet, Can ever compare with the lark and the linnet, Down as I lay among the green buſhes, I was charmed by the notes of the blackbirds and thruſhes.

As Johnny the ploughboy was walking along, To fetch up his cattle ſo early in the morn, He ſpied pretty Nancy among the green ruſhes, Singing more ſweet than the blackbirds & thruſhes.

On yonder hills and lofty high mountains, As the ſheep were a grazing on each day morning, Bright Phebus did ſhine, & the hills were adorning, As Molly ſat milking on a fine ſummer's morning.

So now to conclude and end my ditty, To all country laſſes that are ſweet and pretty, Never forſake your own country employment, No city can afford ſo ſweet an enjoyment.