Lyr Add: Country Lass and a Young Taylor (Bodleian

Subject: Lyr Add: A COUNTRY LASS AND A YOUNG TAYLOR
From: pavane
Date: 04 Mar 08 - 11:11 AM

A Pleasant New BALLAD: Being a merry Discourse between a
Country Lass & a young Taylor:

Shewing
How the Taylor lost his plight and pleasure
His Yard not being, by the Standard, Measure

To a pleasant New Tune, or Kester Crab

In harvest-time I walked
  hard by a Corn-Close side;
I hearing people talk,
  I looked about, and spy'd

A Young man and a maid
  together they did lye;
When you hear it told,
  you'l laugh full heartily.

She was as buxsome a Lass
  as any in our Town;
She will not let you pass,
  but she'l call you to sit down.

A Taylor passing by,
  she hit him on the heele,
You are very welcome Sir,
  to sit you down and feele.

What money's in my Purse,
  at your command shall be,
If you will go along
  to Marson wake with me.

He hearing her say so,
  and seeing her to smile,
Was charmed with her, so
  he sate him down a while.

And having groped her Purse,
  and taken all her money,
He grop’d again, and mist,
  and caught her by the Coney.

Where am I now? (quoth he)
  another I have found,
Its not the same, quoth he,
  for this is tufted round.

If it be tufted round, quoth she,
  there is good reason for't,
There is such treasure lyes,
  will make a Taylor sport.

He hearing her say so,
  being a frollicksome Lad,
Was willing for to know
  more of the fringed bag.

With that he eagerly
  to feel put forth his hand,
Nay, hold good Sir, said she,
  go not before you stand:

Except you take your Yard,
  the depth of it to measure,
You'l find the Purse so deep,
  you'l hardly come to th' treasure.

He hearing her say so,
  it put him to a stand;
She seeing him dismaid,
  she took his Yard in hand:

Is this your Yard, quoth she,
  is this your Taylors measure?
It is too short for me,
  it is not Standard Measure.

The Taylor being abashed,
  she told him that it was
More fitter for a man,
  than such a peuny ass.

She bids him now be gone,
  since he could make no sport,
And said, thou art too small
  to enter such a fort.

She looking fiercely at him,
  she said, thou sneaking fool,
Go straight away to Vulcan,
  and let him mend thy tool:

And tell him that Dame Venus
  at him is almost mad,
For sending to her School
  such an unfit Lad.

You Taylors that attempt
  fringed bags to measure,
Be sure your Yards be sealed,
  and full Standard Measure.

Printed for P Brockley at the Golden Ball in Westsmithfield
[between 1672 and 1696]

Original from the Bodleian Ballad Library
Country Lass and a young Taylor