Page:Sir Martyn (1777).djvu/25

XVIII.

Right plump ſhe was, and ruddie glowd her cheek,

Her eaſie waiſte in milch-white boddice dight,
Her golden locks curld down her ſhoulders ſleek,
And halfe her boſome heaving met the ſight,
Whiles gayly ſhe accoſts the ſober wight:
Freedom and glee blythe ſparkling in her eye
With wanton merrimake ſhe trips the Knight,
And round the younkling makes the clover flye:
But ſoon he ſtarten up, more gameſome by and bye.

XIX.

I ween, quoth ſhe, you think to win a kiſs,

But certes you ſhall woo and ſtrive in vain.
Faſt in his armes he caught her then ywis;
Yfere they fell; but loud and angry then
Gan ſhe of ſhame and haviour vild complain,
While baſhfully the weetleſſe Boy did look:
With cunning ſmyles ſhe viewd his awkward pain;
The ſmyle he caught, and eke new courage took,
And Kathrin then a kiſs, perdie, did gentlie brook.