The True Hearted Maiden (Glasgow, 1802)/The Forsaken Nymph
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For other versions of this work, see The Forsaken Nymph.
THE FORSAKEN NYMPH,
A walking, a talking, and a walking was I,
To meet my sweet Billy, he'll come by & by,
To meet him in the meadows is all my delight,
A walking and taking from morning till night.
To meet my sweet Billy, he'll come by & by,
To meet him in the meadows is all my delight,
A walking and taking from morning till night.
Meeting is a pleasure, but parting is a grief,
And an inconstant lover is worse than a thief,
A thief can but rob me and take what I have,
But an inconsistent lover sends me to my grave.
And an inconstant lover is worse than a thief,
A thief can but rob me and take what I have,
But an inconsistent lover sends me to my grave.
The grave it will rot me and bring me to dust,
But an inconstant lover no maiden can trust,
They'll kiss you, they'll court you, poor girls to deceive
There's not one in twenty that you can believe.
But an inconstant lover no maiden can trust,
They'll kiss you, they'll court you, poor girls to deceive
There's not one in twenty that you can believe.
The cucko's a fine bird, she sings where she flies,
She brings us good tidings and tells us no lies,
She sucks of sweet flowers to keep her voice clear,
The more she sings cucko, the summer draws rear.
She brings us good tidings and tells us no lies,
She sucks of sweet flowers to keep her voice clear,
The more she sings cucko, the summer draws rear.
Come all ye pretty maidens wherever ye be,
Don't settle your love on a sycamore tree,
The leaf it will wither, and the root it will die,
And if I'm forsaken, I know not for why.
Don't settle your love on a sycamore tree,
The leaf it will wither, and the root it will die,
And if I'm forsaken, I know not for why.
Printed by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1802.