The Auld Goodman, or, The Goodwife Victorious/Pray, Be Quiet! Do!

BE QUIET! DO!

LONG time with Sylvia have I ſtrove,
⁠Oft told her of my faithful love,
And vow'd for to be true;
⁠Yet the coy fair with feign'd reſtraint,
Always reprov'd my fond complaint,
⁠With, pray be quiet do!
⁠With, pray be quiet. do!

Laſt May-day walking o'er the green,
I ſaw her dreſt like ony queen,
⁠But when I nearer drew;
And told in moving plaints my grief,
Begging of her to give relief,
⁠She cry'd, Be quiet, Do!⁠She, &c.

Vex'd to the heart at laſt to find,
That Sylvia never would be kind,
⁠From her I went my way;
And ſent a letter to her ſtrait,
That I no more on her would wait,
⁠Nor longer for her ſtay.⁠Nor, &c.

Well, this ſoon melted all her pride,
And then in anſwer thus reply'd,
⁠Haſte, dear Philander, do;
Come, quickly come, I'll be your bride,
In Hymen's bands let us be ty'd,
⁠For I love none but you. For I love, &c.

Theſe words reviv'd my dying love,
I joyful, thank'd the Powers above,
⁠In raptures quick I flew
To Sylvia, and made her my bride.
Now ſhe no more with feigned pride,
⁠Cries, Pray, Be quiet, Do! Cries, &c.

Learn, learn from hence ye nymphs & ſwains,
That tread the rural flow'ry plains,
⁠Come learn like us to love;
And may we thro' this mortal life,
In ſpite of diſcord, noiſe, and ſtrife,
⁠Be bleſſed from above.⁠Be bleſſed, &c.