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for he will ne’er deceive me.
My bonny, bonny, &c.
BUXOM JOAN.
A Soldier and a Sailor,
A Tinker and a Taylor.
Had once a doubtful strife, Sir,
To make a maid a wife, Sir,
Whose name was buxom Joan;
For now the time was ended,
And she no more intended
To lick her lips at men, Sir.
And know the sheets in vain, Sir,
Or ly one night alone.
The soldier swore like thunder,
He lov’d her more than plunder,
And shew’d her many a scar, Sir,
Which he had brought from far, Sir,
By fighting for her sake.
But whilst the three were prating,
The sailor slyly waiting,
Thought it came about,
That they three should fall out, Sir,
He then might play his part.
And just e’en as he meant, Sir,
To loggerheads they went, Sir,
