I Don't Care for My Mother

As o'er the mead I pass'd along To milking in the morning; Young Jockey with his cheerful song. All care and fear still scorning; Gave me a kiss, so kind and sweet, I ne'er had such another; And then he was so trim and neat, I don't care for my mother.

For she still chides me night and day, And so does my good aunty; They say I am too free and gay, Too froward, and two flaunty. Yet while he says he will be true, I heed not one or t'other: While he is kind, I'll be kind too, I care not for my mother.

With him I'll trace the mead and grove, All fearless, night and morning; As youth's the season made for love, Which never is returning. To church I'll go, when he will please, I vow, I'll have no other: My aunt for me may scold and teaze, Indeed, so may my mother.