(7)
Would I could gueſs, I do profeſs,
I ſpeak and do not flatter,
Of all the women in the world,
I never would come at her.
Her body is beſtowed well,
a handſome grave doth bide her!
But ſure her ſoul is not in hell,
the de'il would not abide her.
I rather think ſhe is aloft,
and imitating thunder,
For why; methinks I hear her voice,
rending the clouds aſunder.
(❈)-❁-(❈)-(❁)-(❁)-(❈)-❁-(❈)
MERRY MAY the MAID BE.
MERRY may the maid be,
that marries the miller,
For foul day and fair day,
he's ay bringing till her;
Has ay a penny in his purſe,
for dinner and for ſupper;
And gin ſhe pleaſe, a good fat cheeſe,
and lumps of yellow butter.
When Jamie firſt did woo me,
I ſpier'd what was his calling,
Fair maid, ſays he, O come and ſee,
you're welcome to my dwelling:
Though I was ſhy, yet I could ſpy,
