With little search at last he found
My youth and his sweetheart.

He having wit at will,
Unto them both did say,
I will not hear them speak one word
Watchmen, with them away!
And cause they loved so well
'Tis pity they should part.
Away with them to new Bride-well;
There buss your own sweetheart.


His will it was fulfilled,
And there they had the law;
And whilst that they did nimbly spin,
The hemp he needs must taw.
He ground, he thumped, he grew
So cunning in his art,
He learnt the trade of beating hemp
By bussing his sweetheart.

But yet, he still would say,
If I could get release
To see strange fashions I'll give o'er,
And henceforth live in peace,
The town where I was bred,
And think by my desart
To come no more into this place
For bussing my sweetheart.