The Nameless Maiden
A MAID, I dare not tell her name;
For fear I should disgrace her,
Tempted a young man for to come
One night for to embrace her.
When at the door he made a stop, he made a stop,
Then she lay still, and snoring cry’d,
‘The latch will up, the latch will up.’
This young man, hearing of her words,
Pull’d up the latch and entered;
But in the room unfortunately
To her mother’s bed he ventured.
When the poor maid was sore afraid,
And almost dead, and almost dead;
Then she lay still, and snoring cry’d,
‘To the truckle bed, to the truckle bed.’
Unto the truckle bed he went,
But as this youth was a-going,
The unlucky cradle stood in his way,
Which had almost spoil’d his wooing.
When after this the maid he spy’d, the maid he spy’d,
Here she lay still, and snoring cry’d,
'To th’other side, to th’other side.’
Unto the other side he went,
To show the love he meant her;
Pull’d off his clothes courageously,
And fell to the work he was sent for.
And the poor maid made no reply, made no reply,
But she lay still, and snoring cry’d,
‘A little too high, a little too high.’
This lusty lover half ashamed,
Of her gentle admonition,
He thought to charge her home again,
As e’er a girl could wish him.
'Why now my love, I’m right I know, I’m right I know.’
Then she lay still, and snoring cry’d,
‘A little too low, a little too low.’
But by mistake, at length this youth
His business so well 'tended,
He hit the mark so cunningly,
He defy’d all the world to mend it.
'Well now, my love, I’m right I swear, I’m right I swear.’
Then she lay still, and snoring cry’d,
‘Oh there! just there! O there! just there!’
