The Plovvmans Art in VVoeing

The brisk young plowman doth believe
If he were put to tryal,
There's not a maid in all the Shire
Could give him the denyal.
Tune of, Cupid's Trappan.
[figure]
[figure]
I Am a young man that do follow the Plow
But of late I have found out an art,
And can when I please with abundance of ease,
Deprive any maid of her heart, brave boys
Deprive &c.
To think how they'l yield as I walk in the field
My thinks is so pleasant to me,
I long to be nigh her who'l burn like a fire,
If she but my favour doth see, brave boys
If she &c.
Such wenches I think must be certainly mad,
Whose hearts are betray'd with a smile,
But they quickly find such a change in my mind
That will them of all pleasure beguile, brave
That &c.
And will make them look pale like maidens so stale
That for a good Husband doth long,
And this unto me such pleasure will be
That I shall thereof make a song, brave
That &c.
For who can delight in a thing that is fond
'Tis a thing that I never could do,
My passion is gone when she doates upon John,
Then another Girl I must go woe, brave
That I &c.
And in a months space it will be her case
If she can be easily wonn,
To mourn and bewail beneath the Milk-Pale,
And to cry she's forsook and undone, brave
And to cry &c.
I could ne'r understand there's a man in the land
Could delight in whats easily gain'd,
But if it be so that Love they long stow,
Then they'r passion must surely be feignd, brave
Then &c.
Then give me the wench that has so much sence
When a Youngster doth come upon tryal.
Will so cunningly deal that his heart she may steal;
And seemingly give the denyall, brave
And &c.
She surely will find young men be more kind,
If she be but strange and untoward,
For men like the fire do burn with desire,
If they meet with a maid that is froward, brave
If &c.
But it is the fashion throughout all the nation,
And chiefly in Country Townes,
Men maidens beguil who are won with a smile
And then they'r destroy'd with their frowns brave
And &c.
And it may be said there's not a milk maid,
Although she be never so fair,
But if once I begin, her heart I would win
And by my fair words would betray her, brave
And by &c.
It is a rare thing to hear the Girls sing
Oh! my love hath forsaken me quite,
And for his dear sake my heart it doth ake,
I languish by day and by night, brave boys
I languish &c.
As I follow the Plow my thinks I see how
They look pale and their lips they do tremble
Cause they were mistaken and are forsaken
By Youngsters that much did dissemble, brave.
By Youngsters &c.
I will have tother bout and without any doubt
Ile compass the thing I desire,
For I cannot well pass if I meet with a Lass,
Till her heart it be set on a fire, brave
Till her &c.
There's Marget and Jone who still lye all alone
But ile venture to lay twenty shilling,
If a motion I make to cure their heart ake
To lye with me both will be willing, brave
To lye &c.
There's Susan and Kate that long for to ha't
And are vigorous in their desire,
But before they are mad let some lusty young lad
Make haste and Extinguish their fire, brave
Make. &c.

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball in West-Smith-field.

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