I'm in Haste

As cross the field the other morn, I tript so blithe and gay, The 'Squire, with his dog and gun, By chance came by that way; Whither so fast, sweet maid he cried, And caught me round the waist, Pray stop awhile, dear Sir, said I, I can't for I'm in haste.

You must not go as yet, cry'd he, For I have much to say, Come sit you down, and let us chat Upon this new mown hay; I've lov'd you long, and oft have wish'd Those rubby lips to taste, I'll have a kiss, well then, said I, Be quick for I'm in haste.

Just as I spoke, I saw young Hodge, Come through a neighbouring gate, He caught my hand, and cried, dear girl, I fear I've made you wait, But here's a ring, come let's to church, The joys of love to taste, I left the Squire, and laughing cried, You see, Sir, I'm in haste.