Folk and Traditional Song Lyrics:
Diddle Diddle(or the Kind Country Lovers)

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Diddle, Diddle (or the Kind Country Lovers)

Diddle, Diddle (Or the Kind Country Lovers)

Lavender's green, didle, didle
     Lavenders blue
You must love me, diddle, diddle
     'Cause I love you.
I heard one say, diddle, diddle
     Since I came hither
That you and I diddle, diddle
     Must lie together.

My hostesse maid, diddle, diddle
     Her name was Nell,
She was a Lass, diddle, diddle
     That I loved well,
But if she dye Diddle, diddle,
     By some mishap,
Then she shall lye, Diddle, diddle
     Under the Tap.

That she may drink Diddle, diddle,
     When she is dry,
Because she lov'd Diddle, diddle
     My Dog and I.
Call up your Maids Diddle, diddle
     Set them to work,
Some to make Hay, Diddle, diddle
     Some to the Rock.

Some to make Hay, diddle, diddle,
     Some to the Corn
Whilst you and I Diddle, diddle,
     Keep the bed warm.
Let the birds sing, Diddle, diddle
     And the lambs play,
We shall be safe Diddle, diddle
     Out of harms way.

James at the George, Diddle, diddle
     Sue at the Swan
He loves his maid Diddle, diddle
     She loves her man.
But if they chance Diddle, diddle
     For to be found,
Catch them i'th Corn Diddle, diddle
     Put them ith the pound.

I heard a bird Diddle, diddle
     Sing in my Ear
Maids will be scarce Diddle, diddle,
     The next New year.
For young men are Diddle, diddle
     So wanton grown
That they ne'r mind Diddle, diddle,
     Which is their own.

Down in a Dale Diddle, diddle
     Where flowers do grow,
And the Trees bud Diddle, diddle
     All on a row.
A brisk young Man Diddle diddle
     Met with a Maid,
And laid her down, Diddle, diddle
     Under the shade.

Where they did play Diddle, diddle
     & Kiss & Court,
Like Lambs in May Diddle, diddle
     Making fine sport.
There lives a Lass Diddle, diddle
     Over the Green,
She sells good Ale Diddle, diddle
     Think what I mean.

Oft have I been Diddle diddle
     With her i'th the dark
And yet I nere Diddle, diddle
     Shot at the mark.
But now my Dear Diddle, diddle
     Have at thy bumm
For I do swear Diddle, diddle
     Now I am come.

I will be kind Diddle, diddle
     Until I dye,
When prethee love Diddle, diddle
     My Dog & I.
For thee & I Diddle, diddle
     Now are all one,
And we will lye Diddle, diddle
     No more alone.

London, Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.

Tune of Lavender green, &c.
With Allowance, Ro. L'Sttrange.
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