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I, a tender young maid, have been courted by many Of all sorts and trades as ever was any. A spruce haberdasher first spake to me fair But I would have nothing to do with small ware.
Chorus: My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still Yet other young lasses may do as they will.
A sweet scented courtier did give me a kiss, And promis'd me mouuntains if I would be his, But I'll not believe him, for it is too true, Some courtiers do promise much more than they do.
A fine Man of Law did come out of the Strand, To plead his own case with his fee in his hand; He made a brave motion but that would not do, For I did dismiss him and nonsuit him too.
Next came a young fellow, a notable spark, (With green bag and inkhorn, a Justice's clerk) He pull'd out his warrant to make all appear, But I sent him away with a flea in his ear.
A Master of Musick came with an intent, To give me a lesson on my instrument, I thank'd him for nohing, but bid him be gone, For my little fiddle should not be plaid on.
An Usurer came with abundance of cash, But I had no mind to come under his lash, He profer'd me jewels, and great store of gold, But I would not mortgage my little Free-hold.
A blunt Lieutenant surpriz'd my placket, And fiercely began to rifle and sack it, I mustered my spirits up and became bold, And forc'd my Lieutenant to quit his strong hold.
A crafty young bumpkin that was very rich, And us'd with his bargains to go thro' stitch, Did tender a sum, but it would not avail, That I should admit him my tenant in tayl.
A fine dapper taylor, with a yard in his hand Did profer his service to be at command He talk'd of a slit I had above knee, But I'll have no taylors to stitch it for me.
A Gentleman that did talk much of his grounds His Horses, his Setting-Dogs, and his greyhounds Put in for a Course, and us'd all his art But he mist of the Sport, for Puss would not start
A pretty young Squire new come to the town To empty his Pockets, and so to go down, Did profer a kindness, but I would have none The same that he us'd to his mother's maid, Joan.
Now here I could reckon a hundred and more Besides all the Gamesters recited before That made their addresses in hopes of a snap But as young as I was I understood trap.
Last chorus: My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still Until I be marryed, say men what they will.
From Pills to Purge Melancholy, Vol. IV, D'Urfey RG
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