Volume 5 — Jenny making Hay.
Reading edition
[Listen]
POOR Jenny and I we toiled, In a long Summer’s Day; Till we were almost foiled, With making of the Hay; Her Kerchief was of Holland clear, Bound low upon her Brow; Ise whisper’d something in her Ear, But what’s that to you? Her Stockings were of Kersey green, Well stitcht with yellow Silk; Oh! sike a Leg was never seen, Her Skin as white as Milk: Her Hair as black as any Crow, And sweet her Mouth was too; Oh Jenny daintily can mow, But, &c. Her Petticoats were not so low, As Ladies they do wear them; She needed not a Page I trow, For I was by to bear them: Ise took them up all in my Hand, And I think her Linnen too; Which made me for to make a stand; But, &c. King Solomon had Wives enough, And Concubines a Number; Yet Ise possess more happiness, And he had more of Cumber; My Joys surmount a wedded Life, With fear she lets me mow her; A Wench is better than a Wife, But, &c. The Lilly and the Rose combine, To make my Jenny fair; There’s no Contentment sike as mine; I’m almost void of Care: But yet I fear my Jenny’s Face, Will cause more Men to woe; Which if she should, as I do fear, Still, what is that to you?
