You'l never get her up, or, Love in a tree. Being a pleasant new song, shewing how a maid was got with child, without lying with a man. To the tune of Buggering oats prepare thy neck. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B06795 of text R227504 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing Y58). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 4 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B06795 Wing Y58 Interim Tract Supplement Guide EBB65H[162] 99887371 ocm99887371 182079 2264219738

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B06795) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 182079) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A2:4[162]) You'l never get her up, or, Love in a tree. Being a pleasant new song, shewing how a maid was got with child, without lying with a man. To the tune of Buggering oats prepare thy neck. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for P[hilip]. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in Pye-Corner., [London] : [between 1685-1692] Verse: "A week ago as I did walk ..." Date, place of publication and publisher's name from Wing. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University, Houghton Library. eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. eebo You'l never get her up, or, Love in a tree. Being a pleasant new song, shewing how a maid was got with child, without lying with a man. To the tune of anon 1692 1 597 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2008-02 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-07 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-09 Sampled and proofread 2008-09 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
You 'l never get her up , Or , Love in a Tree .

Being a Pleasant new Song , shewing how a Maid was got with Child , without lying with a Man .

To the Tune of Buggering Oats prepare thy Neck .

A Week ago as I did walk When it was almost twilight Near to the Cage in St. Jameses Park , Appeared to my ey-sight , I their espy'd a Souldier gay , That was both brisk and airy , But could not tell by any way What might his business there be . When I came nearer I perceiv'd He had a Wench before him He shuv'd her up against a Tree As if that he was boring : I staid a while and laugh'd at For I had got a cup Sir , And cry'd pray turn her Face about Or you 'l nere get her up Sir . The Souldier then replyed to me , Is it so strange an Object To see a Souldier at his Post Beget the King a Subject , He handled then his Arms so well , And called me incompoop too : And said i 'le neither turn her round , Nor strive to get her up joe . With that his match he bravely cock'd Presented and gave Fire , She opened to the right and left Disdaining to retire , The Bullets they did fly about And boldly he did venter , He with consent of both the sides The Sally Port did enter .

At every motion of his Breast The Bandeleirs did rattle , And every toss went too and fro Did represent a Battle , The Bird-Cage it was hard at hand And every Bird did chatter , The Crane , the Vulture and the Crow Cry'd Souldier now have at her . The Soldier he did win the Field His Sword he so well handed , He had much ado to make her yield That he should be disbanded , And now the loving Combats o're No longer she could tarry , And she went off with all the Spoil I wish her nere miscarry . But in short time this handsome Maid Her Belly swell'd up higher And she did seriously affirm No Man lay , with or by her , Therefore the neighbours all conclude Some wanton Fellow by night Had stol'n away her Maiden-head When she did sleep at twilight . Her Mistress sometimes call'd her Whore , And said she 'd not believe her , The skilful Doctors all conclude A Tympany did grieve her , But then she Soldier came again To have the other round bout By what he speak in merry mood The Riddle all was found out . The Maid brought forth a pretty Youth As ever eye did see joy , And all the Neighbours there in truth Call it the Green-wood Tree Boy , You Maidens that are kind and free Walk to the Park by twilight . And take a Touch o th Green-wood Tree 'T is good to clear your eyesight . Let this to youngmen warning be For they do often wild goe . How they help Maids to climb the Tree , For fear they do with Child go Though you ith Gravey Gap will play And take thereof a sup Sir , Yet turn her Face the other way Or you 'l nere get her up Sir .

Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in Pye-Corner .