Way to be happy, or, The new way of Tullochgorum/The Cruel Nymph

The CRUEL NYMPH.

To its own proper Tune

I Am as brown as brown can be,
and my eyes as black as a ſloe;
I am as briſk as a nightingale,
and as wild as any doe.

My love ſent me a love letter,
far from yonder's town;
He ſaid, he could not fancy me,
becauſe I was ſo brown.

I ſent his letter back again;
his love I value not,
Whether he could fancy me,
or whether he could not.

My love ſent me another letter,
that he lay dangerous ſick,
And I muſt needs go preſently,
and give my love phyſic.

But now ye ſhall hear what love I had,
and a love for that ſick man;
That I was a whole ſummer's day
one mile a going on.

When I came to my love's bed-ſide,
where he lay dangerous ſick;
I could not then for laughing ſtand
upright upon my feet.

I ſat me down by his bed-ſide,
and laid a white wand on his breaſt,
And then cry'd I, ſince you are well,
I hope your ſoul's at reſt.

No ſooner had I ſpoke theſe words,
he lifted up his eyes;
But ſince you ſee how bad I am,
'tis you your love denies.

I'll do as much for my true love,
as any pretty maiden may:
I'll dance and ſing upon your grave,
for a twelvemonth and a day.

When I have done what I can do,
I'll ſit me down and cry,
And every tear that I do ſhed,
I'll hang them up to dry.