THE Jovial May-pole Dancers:
OR The Merry Morris.

The Tune is, Top and top-gallant, &c.
[figure]
[figure]
ROwland and Roger,
with Bridget and Mary,
William and Robert,
with Susan and Sarah:
And round round the May-Pole,
they dance and skip it,
The Baggipes they roar,
and the Youngsters they trip it.
Bridget she simper'd,
and Rowland he kist her,
And Susan she laught,
till she almost bepist her:
And round round the May-Pole,
they dance and skip it,
The Baggpipes, &c.
Bridget had Roger,
fast hold by the Jacket,
And Roger had Bridget
as fast by the Placket:
And round round the May-pole,
they dance, &c.
Susan she clasped
her William byth' middle,
And William he all to beclaw'd
her Bumfiddle:
And round round the May-Pole,
they dance and they skip it,
The Baggpipes they roar,
and the Youngsters they trip it.
[figure]
[figure]
[figure]
Roger told Mary,
that she was his Honey,
And swore his Chops water'd,
for her Troninony:
And round round the May Pole,
they dance, &c.
Mary she simper'd,
at Rogers Relation,
And Roger perceiv'd
that she pitty'd his passion:
And round round the May-pole,
they dance, &c
Robert and Sarah
did foot it so featly,
That all the Beholders,
did swear they danc'd neatly:
And round round the May-Pole,
they dance, &c
The Dancers they sweat,
and the Piper was weary,
They threw him a Groat,
and away they did hurry:
Then at the next Ale-house,
with Cake and stew'd Pruin
They treated their Women
and fell to their Wooing.
Then with choise Songs,
of the Oldest Collections,
They Riggled themselves,
in their Ladies affections:
They sung and they roar'd,
till the Landlord did swear,
Their Charms were so strong,
they would turn all his Beer
Ale and stew'd Pruins,
and Plum-Cake together,
Now some say Tobacco,
but I know not whether;
The Women were sick,
the Reckoning disputing,
The Men fell to fighting,
the Women to Muting.
In the midst of this hurry,
appears a long Pole,
And a greasie old Victualler,
a Man of Controule;
Who commanded the Peace,
and to part and not grumble
Each Lad took his Lass,
and so home they did tumble.

Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Guiltspur-street.

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