SONGS.
THE GOLDEN GLOVE.
A wealthy young 'squire of Tamworth we hear.
He courted a nobleman’s daughter so fair;
And for to marry her it was his intent,
All friends and relations had given their consent.
The time was appointed for the wedding-day,
A young farmer was chosen the father to be;
As soon as the lady the farmer did spy,
It flamed her heart, O my heart, she did cry.
She turned from the ’squire, nothing she said,
Instead of being married she went to her bed.
The thoughts of the farmer still run in her mind,
The way for to have him she soon then did find.
Coat, waistcoat, and breeches she then did put on.
And a-hunting she went with her dog and her gun;
She hunted all round where the farmer did dwell,
Because in her heart she lov’d him so well.
She oftentimes fired, but nothing she killed,
At length the young farmer came into the field;
