A wealthy young squire of Tamworth, we hear,
He courted a nobleman's daughter so fair;
And for to marry her it was his intent,
All friends and relations gave their consent.
2. The time was appointed for the wedding-day,
A young farmer chosen to give her away;
As soon as the farmer the young lady did spy,
He inflamed her heart; O, my heart! she did cry.
3. She turned from the squire, but nothing she said,
Instead of being married she took to her bed;
The thought of the farmer soon run in her mind,
A way for to have him she quickly did find.
4. Coat, waistcoat, and breeches she then did put on,
And a hunting she went with her dog and her gun;
She hunted all round where the farmer did dwell,
Because in her heart she did love him full well:
5. She oftentimes fired, but nothing she killed,
At length the young farmer came into the field;
And to discourse with him it was her intent,
With her dog and her gun to meet him she went.
6. I thought you had been at the wedding, she cried,
To wait on the squire, and give him his bride.
No, sir, said the farmer, if the truth I may tell,
I'll not give her away, for I love her too well.
| 7. Suppose that the lady should grant you her love,
You know that the squire your rival will prove.
Why, then, says the farmer, I'll take sword in hand,
By honour I'll gain her when she shall command.
8. It pleased the lady to find him so bold;
She gave him a glove that was flowered with gold,
And told him she found it when coming along,
As she was a hunting with her dog and gun.
9. The lady went home with a heart full of love,
And gave out a notice that she'd lost a glove;
And said, Who has found it, and brings it to me,
Whoever he is, he my husband shall be.
10. The farmer was pleased when he heard of the news,
With heart full of joy to the lady he goes:
Dear, honoured lady, I've picked up your glove,
And hope you'll be pleased to grant me your love.
11. It's already granted, I will be your bride;
I love the sweet breath of a farmer, she cried.
I'll be mistress of my dairy, and milking my cow,
While my jolly brisk farmer is whistling at plough.
12. And when she was married she told of her fun,
How she went a hunting with her dog and gun:
And now I've got him so fast in my snare,
I'll enjoy him for ever, I vow and declare!
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