The roving batchelor/The Pleasures of Wooing

THE

PLEASURES OF WOOING.

Far wel to the pleasures of wooing,
the bank and the lily so gay;
Till once my poor heart was deluded,
and by a false man stole away.
Young women beware of delusion,
and be not o’er fond of young men,
For soon they’ll prove your confusion,
if once your affection they gain.

For first they’ll shorten your apron,
and then they’ll shorten your gown,
But woes me my b nny lassie,
when once she begins to look down.
They’ll fill up her health in a bumper,
and cause the whole cup to go round,
And they’ll drink it over and over,
and choose a new lover the morn.

But woes me that e’er I believ’d them,
for frentimes they charmed me,
They robb’d me of all my treasure,
my heart and my virginity.
Young men they are glorious creatures,
it’s a pity so false they were ay,
They’re fickle like weather in Winter,
they’ll heat and they’ll cool in a day.

What need I tell’t over and over,
what I in my bosom do find,
They’ll wheedle and cox till you’re ruin’d,
and then all your pleasures do end.
What need I tell’t, &c.