The Pope's knavery, or, Old Nick's invention (1)/Sweet Alison

Sweet Alison.

Come all you honest lovers,
and listen to my thame,
For I love a pretty girl,
sweet Alison by name,

Whoe’er knors this lovely creature,
surely they will be as I,
They will love her, they will love her,
else they deserve to die.

For she’s such a loving creature,
that my heart she's ta’en from me,
Tho’ I thought I’d been posses’d o’t,
as firm's most men could be.

She’s not the first maid I have seen,
altho' I love her best.
But she’s mere blythness in her face,
than any of the rest.

Ihe first time that I near her was,
she on me cast a smile;
And whether it was my love or not,
she did my heart beguile.

For her eyes they're so enflaming,
that many they're like to burn,
But if she'd grant her hand to me,
we’d leave the rest to mourn

Her smiles new life gives to my heart,
her frowns ⟨are⟩ like to kill
O if the may uot be my love,
from my heart keep her still.

For happy thrice that youth must be,
who folds her in his arms,
Who access has and freedom too,
to enjoy all her charms.

O had I her into my arms,
how happy would I be?
If this I get, I'll dance and sing,
and love my sweet Alie.