The SQUABBLE.
9
LOBBIN CLOUT.
See this tobacco pouch that's lin'd with hair, 35
Made of the skin of sleekest fallow deer.
This pouch, that's ty'd with tape of reddest hue,
I'll wager that the prize shall be my due.
See this tobacco pouch that's lin'd with hair, 35
Made of the skin of sleekest fallow deer.
This pouch, that's ty'd with tape of reddest hue,
I'll wager that the prize shall be my due.
CUDDY.
Begin thy carrols then, thou vaunting slouch,
Be thine the oaken staff, or mine the pouch. 40
Begin thy carrols then, thou vaunting slouch,
Be thine the oaken staff, or mine the pouch. 40
LOBBIN CLOUT.
My Blouzelinda is the blithest lass,
Than primrose sweeter, or the clover-grass.
Fair is the king-cup that in meadow blows,
Fair is the daisie that beside her grows,
Fair is the gillyflow'r, of gardens sweet, 45
fair is the mary-gold, for pottage meet;
But Blouzelind's than gillyflow'r more fair,
Than daisie, mary-gold, or king-cup rare.
My Blouzelinda is the blithest lass,
Than primrose sweeter, or the clover-grass.
Fair is the king-cup that in meadow blows,
Fair is the daisie that beside her grows,
Fair is the gillyflow'r, of gardens sweet, 45
fair is the mary-gold, for pottage meet;
But Blouzelind's than gillyflow'r more fair,
Than daisie, mary-gold, or king-cup rare.
CUDDY.
My brown Buxoma is the featest maid,
That e'er at wake delightsome gambol play'd; 50
Clean as young lambkins or the goose's down,
And like the goldfinch in her Sunday gown.
The witless lamb may sport upon the plain,
The frisking kid delight the gaping swain,
The wanton calf may skip with many a bound, 55
And my cur Tray play deftest[1] feats around;
But neither lamb nor kid, nor calf nor Tray,
Dance like Buxoma on the first of May.
My brown Buxoma is the featest maid,
That e'er at wake delightsome gambol play'd; 50
Clean as young lambkins or the goose's down,
And like the goldfinch in her Sunday gown.
The witless lamb may sport upon the plain,
The frisking kid delight the gaping swain,
The wanton calf may skip with many a bound, 55
And my cur Tray play deftest[1] feats around;
But neither lamb nor kid, nor calf nor Tray,
Dance like Buxoma on the first of May.
LOBBIN CLOUT.
Sweet is my toil when Blouzelind is near,
Of her bereft 'tis winter all the Year. 60
With her no sultry summer's heat I know;
In winter, when she's nigh, with love I glow.
Come Blouzelinda, ease thy swain's desire,
My summer's shaddow and my winter's fire!
Sweet is my toil when Blouzelind is near,
Of her bereft 'tis winter all the Year. 60
With her no sultry summer's heat I know;
In winter, when she's nigh, with love I glow.
Come Blouzelinda, ease thy swain's desire,
My summer's shaddow and my winter's fire!
- ↑ Line 56, Deft, an old world signifying brisk or nimble.
CUDDY
