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6
And with part of fat Toby he form'd this
brown jug.
Now sacred to friendship, to mirth and
mild ale,
So here's to my lovely sweet Nan of the
vale.
THE MAID IN BEDLAM.
One morning very early,
One morning in the spring,
I heard a maid in Bedlam,
Who mournfully did sing,
Her chains she rattled in her hands,
While sweetly thus sung she,
I love my love, because I know
My love loves me.
Oh cruel were his parents
Who sent my love to sea,
And cruel, cruel was the ship
That bore my love from me.
Yet I love his parents since they're his,
Although they've ruin'd me,
And I love my love, because I know
My love loves me.
