The JILTS; a Song sung to the King at Winchester.
〈♫〉〈♫〉 ON a Bank in flow╌ry June, when Groves are green and gay; in a smi╌ling Af╌ter╌noon, with Doll young Willy lay:
Several new songs by Tho. Durfey ; set to as many new tunes by the best masters in music.
About this Item
- Title
- Several new songs by Tho. Durfey ; set to as many new tunes by the best masters in music.
- Publication
- London :: Printed by J. Playford, for Joseph Hindmarsh,
- 1684.
- Rights/Permissions
-
To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
- Subject terms
- Songs, English -- England -- 17th century.
- Link to this Item
-
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A37016.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"Several new songs by Tho. Durfey ; set to as many new tunes by the best masters in music." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A37016.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 15, 2024.
Pages
Page 5
〈♫〉〈♫〉 They thought none were to spy 'em, but Nell stood list'ning by 'em; Oh fye! Doll cry'd, no I vow, I'd ra╌ther dye, than wrong my Mo╌de╌sty: Quoth Nell, that I shall see.
II.
Smarting pain the Virgin finds,
Although by Nature taught,
When she first to Man enclines;
Quoth Nell, I'le venture that.
Then who would lose a Treasure
For such a puny Pleasure?
Not I, not I, no, a Maid I'le live and dye,
And to my Vow be true:
Quoth Nell, the more fool you.
III.
To my Closet I'le repair,
And Godly Books peruse;
Then devote my self to Pray'r,
Quoth Nell, and—use:
You Men are all perfidious,
But I will be Religious.
Try all, fly all, whil'st I have Breath deny ye all,
For the Sex I now despise:
Quoth Nell, by G—d she lies.
IV.
Youthful Blood o'respreads her Face,
When Nature prompts to Sin;
Modesty ebbs out apace,
And Love as fast flows in:
The Swain that heard this schooling,
Asham'd, left off his fooling;
Kill me, kill me, now I am ruin'd, let me dye:
You have damn'd my Soul to Hell;
Try her once again, cries Nell.