The Ploughman's Art in Woeing  
The brisk young ploughman doth believe  
If he were put to trial,  
There's not a maid in all the Shire  
Could give him the denial.  
Tune of, Cupid's Trappan.  
 
 

I Am a young man that do follow the Blow  
But of late I have found out an art,  
And can when I please with abundance of ease,  

Deprive any maid of her heart, brave boys  
Deprive etc.    

To think how they'll yield as I walk in the field  
My thinks is so pleasant to me,  
I long to be nigh her who'll burn like a fire,  

If she but my favour doth see, brave boys  
If she etc.    

Such wenches I think must be certainly mad,  
Whose hearts are betrayed with a smile,  
But they quickly find such a change in my mind  

That will them of all pleasure beguile, brave  
That etc.    

And will make them look pale like maidens so stale  
That for a good Husband doth long,  
And this unto me such pleasure will be  

That I shall thereof make a song, brave  
That etc.    

For who can delight in a thing that is fond  
'Tis a thing that I never could do,  
My passion is gone when she dotes upon John,  

Then another Girl I must go woe, brave  
That I etc.    

And in a month's space it will be her case  
If she can be easily won,  
To mourn and bewail beneath the Milk-Pale,  

And to cry she's forsaken and undone, brave  
And to cry etc.    

I could ne'er understand there's a man in the land  
Could delight in what's easily gained,  
But if it be so that Love they long stow,  

Then they're passion must surely be feigned, brave  
Then etc.    

Then give me the wench that has so much sense  
When a Youngster doth come upon trial.  
Will so cunningly deal that his heart she may steal;  

And seemingly give the denial, brave  
And etc.    

She surely will find young men be more kind,  
If she be but strange and untoward,  
For men like the fire do burn with desire,  

If they meet with a maid that is froward, brave  
If etc.    

But it is the fashion throughout all the nation,  
And chiefly in Country Towns,  
Men maidens beguile who are won with a smile  

And then they're destroyed with their frowns brave  
And etc.    

And it may be said there's not a milk maid,  
Although she be never so fair,  
But if once I begin, her heart I would win  

And by my fair words would betray her, brave  
And by etc.    

It is a rare thing to hear the Girls sing  
Oh! my love hath forsaken me quite,  
And for his dear sake my heart it doth ache,  

I languish by day and by night, brave boys  
I languish etc.    

As I follow the Blow my thinks I see how  
They look pale and their lips they do tremble  
'Cause they were mistaken and are forsaken  

By Youngsters that much did dissemble, brave.  
By Youngsters etc.    

I will have t'other bout and without any doubt  
I'll compass the thing I desire,  
For I cannot well pass if I meet with a Lass,  

Till her heart it be set on a fire, brave  
Till her etc.    

There's Margot and Joan who still lie all alone  
But i'll venture to lay twenty shilling,  
If a motion I make to cure their heart ache  

To lie with me both will be willing, brave  
To lie etc.    

There's Susan and Kate that long for to have't  
And are vigorous in their desire,  
But before they are mad let some lusty young lad  

Make haste and Extinguish their fire, brave  
Make. etc.     

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball in West-Smith-field.