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ON ANGLING. 141
In a tremour she made answer,
Sir, dont me tantalize— I am none of those you mention—
Your praises I despise ; I am but a shepherd's daughter,
That came milking to the Boyne, Your company withdraw from me—
Your lines and hooks go find.
My lines and hooks I value not, love,
Gold will purchase more, I am so captivated
By you my Villa Store ; I have fifty acres of good land
Down by the Boyne water side, Love don't be shy, with me comply,
And I'll make you my lawful bride.
Sir, acquaint your father of the same,
A match for you he'll find, In some wealthy farmer's daughter,
More pleasing to his mind; When we'll agree you'll plainly see,
And equally you'll find, So, I'll mind my sheep, my lambs I'll keep,
Till Providence proves kind.