The Answer.

OH! where's the plague in love,

That you can't bear it,

If men wou'd constant prove,
They need not fear it.

Young maidens, foft and kind,
Are moft in danger,

Men waver with the wind,

Each man's a ranger,

Their falfhood makes us know,

That two ftrings to our bow

Is beft, I find it fo,

'Tis I that fhou'd defpair,

'Tis you that flights me,
What tho' when at the Fair,
Dick did invite me;
Tho' Daniel with me danc'd,
You may believe me,
I often on thee glanc'd,
I'd not deceive thee
I faw thee look awry,
I knew the reason why,
I can fee with one eye,

Thou young and filly boy,

Do I disdain thee,

Because thou'rt mother's joy,

I'd entertain thee;

Yet wish I not her death,

Barnaby doubts me.

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Barnaby doubts me.

For ought she'd leave thee, Nor when time ftops her breath,

Will I deceive thee,

What

Talk not of curds and cream,
Pears, plumbs, and cherries,
Nor of the crystal stream,

Or bramble berries,

Moft furely you forget,

Our wanted frisking,

The cock'rill on the spit,

And the pork grisking.

With more that might be said,

When I got dame to bed,

Yet oh unhappy maid,

You fay what e'er you do,
Nothing contents thee,

`I pray it may be so,

Whilft thou torment'ft me:

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Barnaby doubts me.

I pine

1

I pine and figh all night,

And wifh for morrow,
I can have no delight,
-I'm full of forrow,
Oh if I dye I fear,
Within a thousand year,
My ghost will mak't appear,

I knit thy worsted hofe,
To fave the penny,

Barnaby doubts me.

But wou'd not spot thy cloaths,

Like idle Winny,
Yet wanton Winnefred,
You like much better,
Or Doll the dairy-maid,
If you cou'd get her,
Ungrateful Barnaby,

How can't thou threaten me;
But I knew how 'twould be,

Barnaby doubts me,

The cloth I have of thine,
Wrought with blue coventry,
Which thou gav❜st as a fign,

Of thy fidelity,
I'll give it back again,

To thee as a token,

That by a perjur'd swain,
My fad heart's broken;

Oh Barnaby unkind,

Thou'lt quite distract my mind,

Too late alas I find,

Barnaby doubts me.

FINI S.

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