The American Songster, Song

Was Nanny but a rural maid, And I her only swain, To tend her flocks in fertile mead, And on her verdant plain; Oh! how I'd pipe upon my reed, To please my lovely maid; While of all sense of care we're freed, Beneath an oaken shade.

When lambkins under hedges bleat, And rain seems in the sky, Then to our oaken, safe retreat, We'd both together hie! There I'd repeat my vows of love Unto my charming fair, Whilst her dear flutt'ring heart would prove, A mind like mine sincere.

Let others fancy courtly joys, I'd live in rural ease; Then grandeur, bustle, pride, and noise Could ne'er my fancy please! In Nanny ev'ry joy combines, With grace, and blooming youth; Sincerity and virtue shines, With modesty and truth.