A Wanton Trick

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If anyone long for a musical song,
Although that his hearing be thick,
The sound that it bears will ravish his ears —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

A pleasant young maid on an instrument played
That knew neither note nor prick.
She had a good will to live by her skill —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

A youth in that art, well seen in his part,
They called him Darbyshire Dick,
Came to her a suitor and would be her tutor —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

He pleased her so well that backward she fell
And swooned as though she were sick.
So sweet was his note that up went her coat —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

The string of his viol she put to the trial
'Til she had the full length of the stick.
Her white bellied lute she set to his flute —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

Thus she with her lute and he with his flute
Held every crochet and prick.
She learned at her leisure yet paid for her pleasure —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

His viol string burst, her tutor she cursed;
However, she played with the stick.
From October to June she was quite out of tune —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

And then she repented that e'er she consented
To have either note or prick;
For learning so well made her belly to swell —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

All maids that make trial of a lute or a viol,
Take heed how you handle the stick;
If you like not this order, come, try my recorder —
'Tis but a wanton trick.

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