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Nor does she mind,
Or think on't now,
That ever thou
Wast kind;
But chang'd above,
She likes not there.
As she did here,
Thy love.
Forbear, therefore,
And lull asleep
Thy woes, and weep
No more.

1026. SAINT DISTAFF'S DAY, OR THE MORROW AFTER
TWELFTH DAY.

Partly work and partly play
Ye must on S. Distaff's day:
From the plough soon free your team,
Then come home and fodder them.
If the maids a-spinning go,
Burn the flax and fire the tow;
Scorch their plackets, but beware
That ye singe no maidenhair.
Bring in pails of water, then,
Let the maids bewash the men.
Give S. Distaff all the right,
Then bid Christmas sport good-night;
And next morrow everyone
To his own vocation.
Plackets, petticoats.