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A Wanton Trick If anyone long for a musical song, Although that his hearing be thick, The sound that it bears will ravish his ears — 'Tis but a wanton trick. A pleasant young maid on an instrument playedThat knew neither note nor prick.She had a good will to live by her skill —'Tis but a wanton trick. A youth in that art, well seen in his part,They called him Darbyshire Dick,Came to her a suitor and would be her tutor —'Tis but a wanton trick. He pleased her so well that backward she fell And swooned as though she were sick. So sweet was his note that up went her coat — 'Tis but a wanton trick. The string of his viol she put to the trial'Til she had the full length of the stick.Her white bellied lute she set to his flute —'Tis but a wanton trick. Thus she with her lute and he with his flute Held every crochet and prick. She learned at her leisure yet paid for her pleasure — 'Tis but a wanton trick. His viol string burst, her tutor she cursed;However, she played with the stick. From October to June she was quite out of tune —'Tis but a wanton trick. And then she repented that e'er she consentedTo have either note or prick;For learning so well made her belly to swell —'Tis but a wanton trick. All maids that make trial of a lute or a viol,Take heed how you handle the stick;If you like not this order, come, try my recorder —'Tis but a wanton trick.
If anyone long for a musical song, Although that his hearing be thick, The sound that it bears will ravish his ears — 'Tis but a wanton trick.
A pleasant young maid on an instrument playedThat knew neither note nor prick.She had a good will to live by her skill —'Tis but a wanton trick.
A youth in that art, well seen in his part,They called him Darbyshire Dick,Came to her a suitor and would be her tutor —'Tis but a wanton trick.
He pleased her so well that backward she fell And swooned as though she were sick. So sweet was his note that up went her coat — 'Tis but a wanton trick.
The string of his viol she put to the trial'Til she had the full length of the stick.Her white bellied lute she set to his flute —'Tis but a wanton trick.
Thus she with her lute and he with his flute Held every crochet and prick. She learned at her leisure yet paid for her pleasure — 'Tis but a wanton trick.
His viol string burst, her tutor she cursed;However, she played with the stick. From October to June she was quite out of tune —'Tis but a wanton trick.
And then she repented that e'er she consentedTo have either note or prick;For learning so well made her belly to swell —'Tis but a wanton trick.
All maids that make trial of a lute or a viol,Take heed how you handle the stick;If you like not this order, come, try my recorder —'Tis but a wanton trick.
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