THE Witty Damsel of Devonshire:  
OR, A Dialogue between a Mother and her Daughter, concerning Robin the Miller whom the Daugther hated, and resolved to marry William the Ploughman whom she dearly Loved.  
Tune of Here I Love, there I Love: Or, The two English Travellers.  
Licenced according to Order.  
 
 
 
 

DEar Daughter come hither and hear what I say,  
When do you intent to be Married I pray,  
Poor Robin the Miller lies sick fo● your sake,  
Some pity of him I would have you now take.   

He vow● that he loves you as dear as his life,  
And has a desire to make you his wife;  
Then do not be cru●l dear Daughter, said she;  
For why, he lo●●● none in the Nation but thee.   

I ●ill not believe him dear Mother she cried,  
Th●●e's Prudenc● young Bridget, nay Susan beside,  
Nay Nelly, and Nancy, likewise Bonny Kate,  
All these youthful Lady's he courted o● late.   

As soon as their Innocent Hearts were betrayed,  
He never regarded the Vows that he made;  
Now if he does languish, i'faith let him die,  
I know he is given to flatter and lie.   

My d●ar loving Daughter I an't of that mind,  
I'm certain he never can prove so unkind;  
Afford him all kindness and love that you can;  
you'll find this poor Miller a right Honest Man.   

His life I would have you endeavour is save,  
For why should you send him with Sighs to the Grave;  
Poor heart he doth languish and cry day night,  
That you are resolved to ruin him quite.   

His strange Protestetions I vow and declare,  
Are none but self-notions young Maids to ensnare;  
Therefore I'll have nothing to do with him then,  
These Millers I know to be false hearted Men.   

His death I am certain we need never fear,  
For Loyal to any he ne'er did appear;  
Young Lasses he now courts a Store and above,  
Then hang him dear Mother he'll ne'er die for love.   

Besides I must tell you his calling I hate,  
And never desire to live at that rate,  
Before the Toll-dish my Apparel shall give,  
I will stay a Maiden as long as I live.   

I wonder dear Daughter you should be so coy,  
Both Riches and Pleasure you soon would enjoy,  
Beyond your Three Sisters Kate, Dolly and Joan  
For Robin you know has a Mill of his own.   

Likewise he has three or four Acres of Land,  
And al●o good Silver and Gold at command,  
He tells me that you shall be Dame of his store,  
Now think of this Daughter, what man can say more.   

I care not a Fig for his silver and Gold,  
Tho' he had as much as my Apron could hold,  
Nor yet do I value his owning a Mill;  
If ever I wed it shall be honest Will.   

His living he gets by the sweat of his Brow,  
Sometimes by his Thrashing then Harrow and Blow,  
By honest hard labour he lives true and just,  
But Millers you know they are Thiefs as the best.   

I value not Robin, nay Richard nor Ralph,  
If 〈◊〉 am with William m● thinks I am safe,  
For why to his Honour, nay Glory and Fame,  
We now have a right valiant King of his Name.   

But as for the Robins it never was know,  
That they were thought worthy to come near the throne,  
Then Heavens preserve all the Williams therefore  
It being the Name which I dearly adore.   

Her Mother immediately made this Reply;  
Let Robin the Miller with languishing dye,  
With these pretty sayings my Heart you have won,  
I will have a William likewise to my son.    

Printed for P. Brooksby, I. Deacon, I. Blare, and I. Back.