The West country Delight or, Hey for Zommerzet-Shire Lively Delineating how jocund they be, That Jerk it, And Ferk it, Under the Green-Wood Tree.
To a New Tune of, O how they aid Firk it: or, Salengers round.
IN Summer time when flowers do spring,
And birds sit on a tree,
Let Lords and Knights say what they will
there's none so merry as we:
There's Will and Mol,
Here's Harry and Dol,
[...]ith Brian and bonny Betty,
Oh! how they did j [...]rk it,
Caper and firk it,
under the Green-wood-tree.
Our Musick is a twire-pipe try'd,
that can so sweetly play,
Whom we do hire from Whitsontide,
till latter [...]amm [...] d [...]y:
On Sabboth d [...]ys,
On Holy- [...]ys,
After Evening p [...]per comes he,
And then, &c.
Come play us [...]dam and Eve, says Dick,
what's that says I wire-pipe,
It is the beginning o'th world quoth I
for we are dancing ripe:
Is't that you call,
Then Have at all,
He play'd with a merry glee,
O! then, &c.
In comes our Gaffer Underwood,
and sets him on the Bench,
His wife and daughter Ne'r-be-good
that pretty round fac'd wench:
There s Neighbour Chuck,
And Habak [...]uk,
They all come there to see,
O! ho [...], &c.
from thence we go to sir Williams gr [...]
and a rich old Cub is he,
And there we dance a round a round,
but the devil a p [...]nny we see:
From thence we [...]et,
To Sammer-S [...]t,
Where men are frolick and [...] [...],
And there, &c.
The second part, to the same tune.
MY Lords Son must not be forgot,
so full of merry jest,
He laughs to see the Girls so hot,
and jumps in with the rest:
He doth them assail,
With his Calves-tail,
And he thrusts it in to see,
O! how they do, &c.
A pox of all those snufling knaves,
that do our sports despise,
We value not the sneaking slaves,
their mor precise then wise:
Bots on them all,
Both great and small,
And such Hypocrisie,
For we will, &c.
Though bonny Nell do bare the Bell,
'mongst gallants gay and gaudy,
Our Margery's as light as she,
and yet she is not baudy:
When she with trusty Arthur meets,
And Bab with Bar [...]aby,
O! how they do figg it,
Jump and Jigg it,
under the Green-wood tree.
We fear no plots of Iews or Scots,
for we are jolly Swains,
With Plow, and Cow, and Barley Mow,
we busie all our brains:
No City cares
Nor Merchants fears,
Of wrack or Pyracy,
Therefore we can flant it,
Revel and rant it,
under the Green-wood-tree.
O're hills and dales at Whitson Ales,
we dance a merry fit,
When Susan sweet with Iohn doth meet,
she gives him hit for hit;
From he d to foot,
She holds him too't,
And jumps as high as he:
O! how they do spring it,
[...]lounce it and fling it,
under the Green-wood-tree.
With Ribbon red in Hat on head,
young Ralph doth skip and jump,
Ioin has a new long Scarf of blew.
that reaches to her rump:
With Petty-coats,
As light as motes,
which in the Sun we see:
Oh! how they did skip it,
Trample and trip it,
under, &c.
No time is spent with more content,
in City, Court, or Camp;
We fear no Covent-Garden Gout,
nor Pickadilly Cramp,
From Scurvy we
Are always free,
And ever more shall be,
So long as we whisk it,
Frig it and frisk it,
under the Green-wood-tree.
On Meads & Launs we trip like F [...]s,
like Fillies, Kids, or Lambs,
We have no twing to make us [...]ing,
or crinkle in the Hams:
When some disease,
D [...]th on us seize.
with one consent go we,
To jigg it and jerk it,
Caper and firk i [...],
under the Green-wood-tree.
When we'r well fi [...] and almost [...],
that night is drawing on,
And that we mus [...] co [...]f [...]ss (as just)
our dancing [...] is d [...]e;
The Night is spent
With more consert,
For then we all agree,
To Cock it, and Dock it,
Smock it, and Knock it.
under the Green-wood-tree.
FINIS.
Printed for P. Brooksby, next the Go [...] Ball by the Hospital-Gate in West-smith-field.