The Crafty Maid's Approbation.  

Wherein she shows either Black or Brown,  
'Tis Money makes them strait go down;  
When pretty Girls that Gold has none,  
Their fortune is still to lie alone.   
To the Tune of, A fig for France.  
 
 

DRaw near to me young Girls so fine,  
Whose means and portion's like to mine;  
If you'll but hear what I have penned,  
'Twill make you smile before I end:  
I once had Sweethearts fair and young,  
Tho' now from me he's fled and gone;  
But i'll tell you a very good reason why,  
'Twas money did part my Love and I.   

When first to me a Wooing he came,  
He did desire to know my name;  
I told him that my means was small,  
He said he valued none at all:  
So that my favour he could win,  
He valued nothing else a pin:  
But now he's gone and I know not why,  
'twas money, etc.   

Yet for three years his Love stood fast,  
And he vowed for ever it should last;  
But when my friends spoke of the same,  
Then he was for another Dame:  
Except so much money they'd give me,  
No wife for him I must not be:  
His words he clearly did deny,  
So money did part, etc.   

Thus maids may see, so may I too,  
It is for money youngmen Woo:  
Tho' great store of Love they do pretend,  
Yet mark what falls out in the end:  
When they find your Portions are but small,  
Like to a Snake from you they'll crawl:  
And to another straight they'll hie,  
So money did part, etc.   
 
 
 

If I had a head like a Horse,  
Or a body as thick as a Mill-post,  
So bags came but tumbling in,  
Then my favour every fool would win;  
Or was I long-snouted like a Sow,  
Or else Crook-backt like our fine Cow:  
Have at her then, these boys would cry,  
She's money enough, and what care I.   

Youngmen don't blush, you know 'tis true,  
For let her name be Mary or Sue,  
Tho' she was blabber-lipped, also blear-eyed,  
Yet money all those faults will hide;  
Nay, were she the nastiest dingiest slut,  
That a man durst not after her crack a Nut;  
Had she but money, house, or Land,  
I'm sure she would not stick long a hand.   

Yet we whose portions are but small,  
Let us not be dismayed at all;  
Neither let us grieve, lament, nor swound,  
For Beauty's worth a thousand pound:  
Hang't, though my first true Love be gone,  
I've the same face for another man;  
And I'll prove honest till I die,  
Tho' money, etc.   

If two youngmen talk of a Wench,  
As they do sit of an alebench;  
She's a good Huswife, the one replies,  
But has she money, the other cries:  
If she has none she's not for me,  
Give me the Cash, hang Housewifery,  
I love to finger that, for why,  
'Tis money did part my Love and I.   

By this young Girls may plainly see,  
How deceitful these youngmen be;  
They'll search a Maid from top to toe,  
Till all her secrets they do know;  
Then if her means don't please his mind,  
He quickly can turn like the wind:  
I must have a wife with more, he'I cry,  
So money, etc.   

Such affection did that youngman bear,  
That he often called me his dear;  
Such vows and Oaths he made, 'tis known,  
But now he doth them quite disown:  
But since he's gone, sing farewel he,  
I'll slight him more than he does me:  
I'll ne'er lament, nor weep, nor cry,  
Tho' money, etc.   

I am full glad we parted in truth,  
For since I hear he's a cross-grained youth;  
But had he proved true, though ne'er so bare,  
In wealth or woe i'd bear a share;  
But now i'm free, i'll let that slide,  
And ne'er think more to be a Bride:  
There's nothing like to Liberty,  
Since money, etc.   

Thus have I told young Maidens all,  
How the weakest go to the Wall;  
But she that is full, and her Purse well strung,  
She shall have Sweethearts come ding dung:  
It's no matter for breeding or sense,  
So she has but Cash, he'll have the Wench;  
Black or brown he looks not o'th' dye,  
'Twas money did part my Love and I.    

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, & T. Passenger.