The souldier his salutation to the wary wench of Worcester. Who kindly intreats her to grant him a kisse, also her deniall, in answer to this. To a pleasant Scottish tune, call'd Lowdens Delight. 1660 Approx. 5 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B05904 Wing S4433 Interim Tract Supplement Guide EBB65H[95] Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[429] 99887302 ocm99887302 183546

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B05904) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183546) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A2:4[95]; A5:2[337]) The souldier his salutation to the wary wench of Worcester. Who kindly intreats her to grant him a kisse, also her deniall, in answer to this. To a pleasant Scottish tune, call'd Lowdens Delight. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). s.n., [London : 1660] Verse: "Fair Venus, I admire ..." Imprint suggested by Wing. In two parts. L copy trimmed. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University, Houghton Library and the British Library.

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 eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. 2008-01 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-05 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-06 Sampled and proofread 2008-06 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-09 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Souldier his Salutation to the wary Wench of Worceſter. Who kindly intreats her to grant him a kiſſe, Alſo her Deniall, in anſwer to this. To a pleaſant Scottiſh Tune, call'd Lowdens Delight.

FAir Venus, I admire the power of thy Son, No ſooner to give fire but ſtraight the day is won. He'l undertake the God of war to tame, If againſt his boſome right he aime, Folly were it to reſiſt the flame wherein I Cry Sweet Lady pitty My mournful Ditty do not deny To kiſſe thy captive Souldier Or elſe for grief I dye. Ile change my coat and colours, to go along with thee: No more of Mars his followers hence forwards will I be I am ever bound to be thy slave Till thou grants to me the thing I crave 'Tis thy favour I deſire to have then cure my pain Oh now or never, Elſe captive ever ſhall I remain, My heart is deeply wounded But yet I am not ſlain. How canſt thou chaſe but fancy a Souldier ſo compleat? whoſe fortunes may advance thee and make thy honour great I pray thee do not then ſo cruel prove, For my heart I cannot yet remove, More thou hates, the more I'm bound to love, thine I am ſtill Oh fie on Cupid, Which made me ſtupid for want of skill I now muſt be contented, To ſerve thee at thy will. In truth I know no reaſon but I may be ſo bold To kiſſe that lovely Priſon which kéeps my heart in hold. More cruel than a Gaoler would ſhe be That denies me of my liberty. If a kiſſe or two would ſet me frée or eaſe my ſmart Do not abſent thée Nor thus torment me, ſince that thou art The Priſon and the Keeper, Of my impriſoned heart.
The ſecond part, to the ſame Tune.

Come, come, do not refuſe it, but let us now imbrace For once and do not uſe it none ſees us in this place It's in thy power, with a ſmile or frown For to raiſe me up or caſt me down: Let thy penalty on me be known, be it weal or woe Come kill or cure What I endure no man doth know, And then farewel for ever, My friend, or cruel foe. Farewel, there is no duty nor ſervice due to me Then tel her not of beauty where none is plac'd you ſee. Do not then on Cupid thus complain Vnto her that cannot eaſe thy pain, Neither will I be of Venus train I am afraid Thou doſt but flatter Faith no ſuch matter, ſhall me perſwade I will not kiſſe a Souldier Leſt that I be betraid Change not thy coat nor colours to tarry hear with me Good Souldiers by their Valours, will firſt approved be Never ſay thou art a ſlave of mine Nor any thing I have of thine, Rather ſhalt thou dig the grave of mine here in this place Ere thou ſhalt wooe me So to undo me, fie it is baſe To bring poor Country Laſſes Vnto ſuch foul diſgrace. In London you have plenty, why would you come away? I warrant you there's twenty would never ſay you nay. If to them thou wilt not conſtant be, When another thou dolt chance to ſee Thy affection ſoon will glance from me and further range Men once removers, Then conſtant Lovers it is moſt ſtrange. To find a faithful Souldier Not ſubject unto change. Why cal'ſt thou me thy priſon or Gaolor which am none? If that be all the reaſon I pray thee now be gone. For there is no harbour in my breaſt To be granted to ſo bold a gueſt Neither will I yeeld to thy requeſt therefore in vain Is thy intruſion By no deluſion thou ſhalt obtain From me thy fond deſire My honour ſo to ſtain. Go, go or elſe for bear me faith I will never yeeld, Thy captain he'l caſhier thee haſte haſte into the field, Leaſt thy abſence breed thee more diſgrace By thy doting on a maiden face For the loſing of thy Souldiers place would be a ſhame Haſte now or never Else Coward ever they'l thee proclaim. To looſe ſo great an honour By following Venus Game.
FINIS.