Shady grove/The lass of Primrose-hill

THE MAID of PRIMROSE-HILL

'TWAS under Primrose-hill there liv'd,
a sweet and pretty maid,
Not Venus could give more delight,
⁠when you her charms survey'd;
For the lilies fair, and the roses there,
⁠they did combine and both entwine,
To form a beauty rare.

This fair maid many suitors had,
⁠but treated them with scorn,
Till William who could play and dance,
⁠came piping o'er the lawn;
He sung so sweet, was dress'd so neat,
⁠that maidens fair, they did declare,
Their love for William great.

Sweet maid of Primrose-hill, he cry'd,
⁠I come a wooing here,
Then do not you my love reject,
⁠nor treat me too severe;
For my heart so true is fix'd on you,
⁠I'll constant be to only thee,
Thou flower of rosy hue.

The maid she gave her head a toss,
⁠reply'd with scornful air,
I wonder that you can to me,
⁠your fruitless love declare;
For suitors great, in land estate,
⁠have offer'd me their bride to be,
So you do come too late.

Then William hung his head with grief,
⁠and, said, Sweet girl adieu,
I'll quit your charms for wars alarms,
⁠and glory I'll pursue;
For love shall yield to Mars the field,
⁠the fife and drum, invite to come,
I'll poise the spear and shield.

Then with a smile she call'd him back,
⁠and said, Dear William stay,
I did but jest to try your love,
⁠so go not now away;
Then with a kiss he seal'd, his bliss,
⁠she did agree his bride to be,
And nam'd the happy day

Then to the church he went with sweet content,
⁠the bells rang all with joy,
Their hands were join'd in Hymen's bands,
⁠their bliss will never cloy;
For they love all day, at night lay and play,
⁠who'll happy be as he and she,
For their lives are always May.