The jovial Tinker; Or, The willing Couple.  

A Tinker by a maid put to his dumps,  
till he was fain to turn her up for trumps  
She fretted his hammers went so slow,  
They always hit to high or else to low  
At first he was unapt and therefore  told,  
Her Kettles cracked and so it will not hold:  
At last with double fe she brought him on  
And then he provd himself a mettl'd man   
To a new tune, called To high, to low, to low,  
 woodcut of woman  woodcut of man  

THere was a Tinker lived of late,  
as I to you will show;  
And how he used a maiden kind,  
you presently shal know,  
He'd undertake to cure a crack  
i'th Kettle at a blow:  
Although his hammers they did beat  
to high, to low, to high, to low, to low   

And as this Tinker walked the streets  
for work as he did cry;  
A handsome proper maid did meet.  
and call him by and by:  
Tinker said she draw near to me,  
my Kettle I will show;  
Although thy Hammers they do beat  
to high,   

She took the Tinker by the hand,  
and lead him in at door;  
fair maid said he your kettlé's cracked  
'twas mended once before:  
With that she called the tinker rogue  
fair maid why saist thou so?  
Because thy Hammers they do bat  
to high, &c.   

And as the Tinker sate at work,  
this maid began to chide;  
Because he did not clench the nail  
upon the other side:  
Thou dost not work,& workman like  
fair maid why sayest thou so,  
Because thy Hammers they do beat,  
to high, to low, to high, to low, to low:   
 woodcut of man  woodcut of woman  

THe Tinker then took up his pack,  
and fain would go his way;  
The fair maid she perceiving that,  
desired him to stay:  
I'll give the meat, I'll give thee drink  
I'll pay thee e're thou go;  
Although thy Hammers they do beat  
to high, to low, to high, to low, to low,   

Cause she was neat he did retreat,  
and come e're she could sand.  
Fair maid said be I needs must see  
what hole you have to mend:  
She took the Tinker by the hand,  
into a Room they go,  
But still she cried his Hammers beat  
to high, &c.   

The Tinkers job did hold him tack,  
till it was almost dark.  
It seemed her Kettle was so black,  
he could not hit the mark:  
which made the the maiden for to cry,  
strike home before you go,  
For yet the Hammers they do beat,  
to high, &c.   

The Tinker see his work in vain,  
the cause he plainly  told,  
there hath so many nails been driven,  
that mine will not take hold,  
It hath been peec't so many times  
'twill not endure a blow,  
No wonder if my Hammers beat,  
to high.   

The maid thereat was sore perplex,  
and troubled at this ill:  
Said she it hath endured some knocks▪  
and more it may do still;  
I'm sure good liquor it would hold,  
if it were styled I know;  
The reason is your Hammers beat  
to high, &c.   

She bid the Tinker mend his work  
and she would mend his wage;  
He used his Hammers like a Turk,  
and did himself engage.  
And at the last when all was past  
the Tinker pleased her so,  
She said his Hammers did not beat.  
to high, &c.   

The Tinker he for double fee,  
did please with much a do,  
But yet e're forty weeks were gone,  
her Kettle fell in two:  
he knocked her till she Gig'd again,  
as boys they used to do:  
I hope she will not now complain,  
to high, to low, to high, to low, to low.   
FINIS.   

London, Printed for Eliz. Andrews in St: Bartholomews Court in Smithfield.