THE Wealthy Farmer's Choice, Or, The Beautiful Damosels Fortunate Marriage.  
Fair Beauty bright, was his delight, he would not Wed for Gold;  
In his Love's Face, each Charming Grace, his Fancy did behold.  
To the Tune of Cold and Raw.  

This may be Printed, R. P.   
 

NEar a pleasant shady Grove,  
in prime of Summer weather,  
There a Youngman and his Love,  
was sitting close together;  
In sugared words to her he speaks,  
saying, he'd ne'er disgrace her,  
Then stroking her fair Rosy Cheeks,  
he lovingly did Embrace her.   

Then he took her by the Hand,  
saying, I come to Woo thee,  
I have Riches, House and Land,  
with which I will Endow thee:  
All that's mine thou shalt enjoy,  
my Love and only Honey;  
Then let us Kiss, and be not Coy,  
thou shalt not want for Money.   

Like a Lady fair and gay,  
my dear I will Attire,  
Therefore do not say him nay,  
who does you so admire:  
For ever since I saw your Eyes,  
I have been in care surrounded,  
O do not seem to Tyrannize,  
over a true Lover wounded.   
 

He expressed his Loyalty,  
and proffered to advance her,  
But the Maid in Modesty,  
returned him this answer:  
Saying, myself i'll not engage,  
but reckon some years to tarry,  
I am not Sixteen years of Age,  
and therefore too young to Marry.   

Love, said he, I pray forbear,  
this seeming feigned Story,  
Youth and Beauty may compare,  
with Flora in her Glory:  
But pray what Man alive will wed,  
or in th' least come a Wooing,  
To Winter's Snowy Frosty head,  
where Beauty is run to ruin?   

Some Young Men will Court for Coin  
and with Old Wives will Marry,  
But this is not my design,  
for fear I should miscarry:  
For i'll not have one stitch if Old,  
such Wives young Men ne'er pleases;  
For I should have with bags of Gold,  
a thousand or two Diseases.   

But in thy sweet Charming Face,  
the Red Rose and the Lily  
Does appear with such a Grace,  
the which has wounded Willy:  
I thee adore, my Dear, my Dove,  
might I have the choice of many,  
Give me the Lass I dearly love,  
tho' her Portion be not one Penny.   

I have Sheep and Lambs good store,  
and likewise Corn each Harvest,  
Yet if I had ten times more,  
it should be at thy service.  
She hearing what her Love did say,  
she presently consented,  
And they were Married last Holiday,  
and now they live both contented.   

He having thus obtained the Prize,  
their joys are both completed,  
Now they do to Riches rise,  
no Lovers better seated:  
Since she did willingly comply,  
there needed no Disputation,  
She is a Jewel in his Eye,  
and the Glory of all the Nation.    

Printed for I. Blare, at the Looking-Glass on London-Bridge.