T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
The Worcestershire Wedding, Or, Joy after Sorrow
Anonymous(From Collection of Old Ballads, 1723) |
AN OLD Woman clothed in gray, | |
| Her Daughter was charming and Young, | |
| Who chanced to be nudled astray, | |
| By Roger’s false flattering Tongue, | |
| With whom she’d so often been, | 5 |
| Abroad in the Meadows and Fields, | |
| Her Belly got up to her Chin, | |
| And her Spirits quite down to her Heels. | |
| At length she began for to puke, | |
| Her Mother possessed with a fear, | 10 |
| Then gave her a gentle Rebuke, | |
| And said, Child, a Word in thy Ear, | |
| I fear thou hast been playing the Fool, | |
| Which many call high ding a ding: | |
| Why didst thou not follow my Rule, | 15 |
| And tie thy two Toes in a String. | |
| Dear Mother your Counsel I took, | |
| But yet it was never the near, | |
| He got to my Conjuring Book, | |
| And broke all the Paltry Geer: | 20 |
| ’Twas Thread of two Shillings an Ounce, | |
| He broke it and would have his scope; | |
| It is but a Folly to flounce, | |
| ’Tis done and it cannot be hope. | |
| But who is the Father of it, | 25 |
| Tell me without longer delay, | |
| For now I am just in the Fit, | |
| To go and hear what he will say; | |
| ’Twas Roger the Damsel replied, | |
| Who called me his dear pretty Bird, | 30 |
| And told me I should be his Bride | |
| But he’s not so good as his Word. | |
| What, Roger that lives in Mill? | |
| Yes, verily, Mother the same, | |
| Of me he has had his Will; | 35 |
| I’ll hop to him tho’ I am Lame; | |
| Go fetch me my Crutches with speed, | |
| And bring me my Spectacles too | |
| A Lecture to him I will read, | |
| Shall ring his Ears thro’ and thro’. | 40 |
| This said she went hopping away, | |
| And came to young Hodge in the Mill, | |
| On whom she her Crutches did lay, | |
| And cried you have ruined poor Gill, | |
| In getting her dear Maidenhead; | 45 |
| This Truth you can no Ways deny; | |
| With her I advise you to wed, | |
| And make her as honest as I. | |
| But what will you give me, quoth Hodge, | |
| If I take her off of your Hands; | 50 |
| You shall make me Heir of your Lodge, | |
| Your Houses, your Money and Lands; | |
| Your Barns, your Cattle and Plows, | |
| With every Weather and Yew; | |
| This done I will make her my Spouse | 55 |
| Speak up, are you willing or no? | |
| She said, taking Hodge by the Hand, | |
| Let it come to Have and to Hold, | |
| You shall have my Houses and Land, | |
| My Cattle, my Silver and Gold: | 60 |
| Make her but thy honoured Wife, | |
| And thou shalt be Lord of my Store, | |
| Whene’er I surrender my Life, | |
| In case it was Forty times more. | |
| The Bargain was presently struck; | 65 |
| The Marriage and this being done, | |
| The old Woman wished them good luck, | |
| Being proud of her Daughter and Son: | |
| Then hye for a Girl or a Boy, | |
| Young Siss looked as great as a Dutchess: | 70 |
| The old Woman capered for Joy, | |
| And danced a Jigg in her Crutches. | |