Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/335

Sawney was tall and of Noble Race,
  And lov'd me better than any eane;
But now he ligs by another Lass,
  And Sawney will ne'er be my love agen:
I gave him fine Scotch Sarke and Band,
I put 'em on with mine own hand;
I gave him House, and I gave him Land,
  Yet Sawney will ne'er be my Love agen.

I robb'd the Groves of all their store,
  And Nosegays made to give Sawney one;
He kiss'd my Breast and feign would do mere,
  Geud feth me thought he was a bonny one:
He squeez'd my fingers, grasp'd my knee,
And carv'd my Name on each green Tree,
And sigh'd and languish'd to lig by me,
  Yet now he wo'not be my Love agen.

My Bongrace and my Sun-burnt-face,
  He prais'd, and also my Russet Gown;
But now he doats on the Copper Lace,
  Of some leud Quean of London Town:
He gangs and gives her Curds and Cream,
Whilst I poor Soul sit sighing at heam,
And near joy Sawney unless in a Dream,
  For now he ne'er will be my Love again.