The beggar girl/The Weaver and the Tailor

THE WEAVER and THE TAILOR.

⁠As I was a-walking
⁠down by yon shady grove,
⁠I heard a couple talking,
⁠it was concerning love,
⁠The young man being a weaver,
⁠the maid she prov d shy;
⁠And he knew full well by her discourse,
⁠she lov’d a tailor boy.

⁠My dear, for to maintain you,
⁠I'd make my shuttle fly;
⁠I’ll wear my fngers to the bone,
⁠new fashions for to buy.
I’ll buy you silks and satins,
⁠and all things you do choose,
I’ll buy you all new fashions
⁠that you read of in the news.

O how can you maintain me,
⁠and you a journey man;
How can you maintain me,
⁠when you haven't a loom?
With your lee and your rubbing bone,
⁠your knife instead of sheers:
But I'll go wed the taylor boy,
⁠that needs neither reed nor gear.

If you do wed the taylor lad,
⁠You’d have to take out the dung;
You'd have to dig the potatoes,
⁠for work he can do none:
You’ll have to carry in the peats
⁠in a basket or a creel,
While the tailor he sits on his beach,
⁠threading a bar of steel.

Ho'd your tongue of my tailor boy,
⁠he’ll not do so to me;
For when that he does go abroad,
⁠I'll take my liberty;
And I will go a gossiping,
⁠in all places thro’ the town:
And I will please my taylor boy,
⁠at noon, when he comes home.

When your tailor boy does come home,
⁠He'll clip off both your ears;
He’ll beat you with his lappiag board,
⁠with his knife instead of sheers;
He will chide you for going idle,
⁠the length of the whole day;
And an iron goose give you to pluck,
⁠in end of drinking tea.

Ho'd your tongue of ny taylor boy,
⁠He'll not do so to me;
For Adam was a taylor
⁠when the world began so free;
For Adam he made aprons
⁠out of the leaves so fine;
So ever since the world began
The tailor trade doth shine.

But if you saw your taylor lad,
⁠when he sits all alone,
You would take him for an ornament,
⁠for legs you can see none:
Like a frog upon a beating stone,
⁠he sits the live long day,
While the Weaver he goes neat and trim,
⁠amongst the ladies gay.