That roved from town to town; And when he'd done a job of work He lightly sat him down. With his kit upon his shoulder, and A grafting knife in hand, He roved the country round about, A merry journey-man. And when he came to Exeter The maidens leaped for joy; Said one and all, both short and tall, "Here comes a gallant boy." The lady dropt her needle, and The maid her frying-pan; Each plainly told her mother that She loved the journey-man. He had not been in Exeter The days were barely three, Before the Mayor, his sweet daughter She loved him desperately; She bid him to her mother's house, She took him by the hand, Said she, "My dearest mother, see, I love the journey-man!" "Now out on thee, thou silly maid! Such folly speak no more: How can'st thou love a roving man Thou ne'er hast seen before?" "O mother sweet, I do entreat, I love him all I can; Around the country glad I'll rove With this young journey-man. "He need no more to trudge afoot, He'll travel coach and pair; My wealth with me--or poverty With him, content I'll share." Now fill the horn with barleycorn, And flowing fill the can, Here let us toast the Mayor's daughter And the roving journey-man. THYME AND RUE |O once I had plenty of thyme, I could flourish by night and by day. Till a saucy lad he Returned from sea, And stole my thyme away. O and I was a damsel so fair, But fairer I wished to appear; So I wash'd me in milk, And I dressed me in silk, And put the.sweet thyme in my hair. With June is the red rose in bud, But that's not the flower for me; So I plucked the bud, And it pricked me to blood, And I gazed on the willow tree. Othe willow tree it will twist, And the willow tree, it will turn; I would I were clasped In my lover's arms fast, For 'tis he that has stolen my thyme. O it's very good drinking of ale, But it's far better drinking of wine; I would I were clasped In my lover's arms fast, For 'tis he that has stolen my thyme. THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON |There was a youth, and a well-beloved youth, And he was a squire's son: He loved the bailifFs daughter dear, That lived in Islington. Yet she was coy, and would not believe That he did love her so, No nor at any time would she Any countenance to him show. But when his friends did understand His fond and foolish mind, They sent him up to fair London, An apprentice for to bind. And when he had been seven long years, And never his love could see,-- "Many a tear have I shed for her sake, When she little thought of me." Then all the maids of Islington Went forth to sport and play, All but the bailiff's daughter dear; She secretly stole away.