My Thing is My Own

Words: Pills to Purge Melancholy, Vol. IV, D'Urfey
Tune: Lillibullero
Source: Digital Tradition
MIDI file / NWC file / PDF file

I, a tender young maid, have been courted by many
Of all sorts and trades as ever was any.
A spruce haberdasher first spake to me fair
But I would have nothing to do with small ware.

My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still
Yet other young lasses may do as they will.
My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still
Yet other young lasses may do as they will.

A sweet scented courtier did give me a kiss,
And promis'd me mouuntains if I would be his,
But I'll not believe him, for it is too true,
Some courtiers do promise much more than they do.

A fine Man of Law did come out of the Strand,
To plead his own case with his fee in his hand;
He made a brave motion but that would not do,
For I did dismiss him and nonsuit him too.

Next came a young fellow, a notable spark,
(With green bag and inkhorn, a Justice's clerk)
He pull'd out his warrant to make all appear,
But I sent him away with a flea in his ear.

A Master of Musick came with an intent,
To give me a lesson on my instrument,
I thank'd him for nothing, but bid him be gone,
For my little fiddle should not be plaid on.

An Usurer came with abundance of cash,
But I had no mind to come under his lash,
He profer'd me jewels, and great store of gold,
But I would not mortgage my little Free-hold.

A blunt Lieutenant surpriz'd my placket,
And fiercely began to rifle and sack it,
I mustered my spirits up and became bold,
And forc'd my Lieutenant to quit his strong hold.

A crafty young bumpkin that was very rich,
And us'd with his bargains to go thro' stitch,
Did tender a sum, but it would not avail,
That I should admit him my tenant in tayl.

A fine dapper taylor, with a yard in his hand
Did profer his service to be at command
He talk'd of a slit I had above knee,
But I'll have no taylors to stitch it for me.

A Gentleman that did talk much of his grounds
His Horses, his Setting-Dogs, and his greyhounds
Put in for a Course, and us'd all his art
But he mist of the Sport, for Puss would not start

A pretty young Squire new come to the town
To empty his Pockets, and so to go down,
Did profer a kindness, but I would have none
The same that he us'd to his mother's maid, Joan.

Now here I could reckon a hundred and more
Besides all the Gamesters recited before
That made their addresses in hopes of a snap
But as young as I was I understood trap.

My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still
Until I be marryed, say men what they will.
My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still
Until I be marryed, say men what they will.

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