(2)
The Buxom DAME of READING.
To its own proper Tune.
NEar Reading there lived a buxom dame,
The wife of a cobler, Joan was her name,
She had a hen of a delicate ſize,
The like you never beheld with your eyes.
She had a red head, grey wings, yellow legs,
Each ſummer ſhe laid her a buſhel of eggs;
And Joan laſt ſummer would ſet her indeed,
For ſhe was reſolved to have more of her breed.
And as ſhe was ſetting her 'pon a day,
A ſhepherd came to her, and thus he did ſay;
Oh! what are you doing? ſhe anſwer'd him then,
I am going to ſet a miraculous hen.
Why then ſays the ſhepherd, to keep the eggs warm,
And that they may proſper and come to no harm;
You muſt ſet the eggs in a large cuckold's cap,
And then all the chickens will come to good hap.
I have ne'er a cuckold's cap, ſhepherd, ſays ſhe,
But nevertheleſs I will be ruled by thee;
For this very moment, I'll trudge up and down,
And borrow one, if there be one in the town.
She went to her neighbour, and thus ſhe did ſay,
Come lend me thy cuckold's cap, neighbour I pray,
I am going to ſet a miraculous hen,
And when I've done with, I'll bring it again.
The neighbours wife anſwer'd, and thus reply'd,
Had I ſuch a thing you ſhould not be deny'd,
Years fourteen or fifteen, I have been a wife,
And my huſband had ne'er ſuch a thing in his life.
