He would have me sing him
Ballads, he would hang Entranc'd upon the Spinet when I
play'd. Now would he fetch me a flower for my hair, placing
of it himself. And now 't was a knot of ribband for my
dress, and himself fetch'd home broach and ear-rings for my
Birthday Gift, saying in my ear no fairer woman's face had
gladded his eyes since he left home. And by the clipt Hedge
on a May night he kiss'd me. Alas, oh blind high God, alas,
alas!
'T was Wondrous to see how even the Servants did catch the
Humour, they waiting upon me Marvelous ready. Until came my
dear Aunt, smiling sickly, and laying of her Hand upon my
Sholder said she must speak for mine own Good. Richard was
but a young Man, wild & headlong, and I a fair Woman thrown
in his Way in an empty betweenwhiles ere his own true love
came. See to it, Jessamine, says she, that a Boy's
short-liv'd Fancy makes not a mock of thee, at thy years,
that should know better!
Mine Uncle ever twitt'd me for liking of Books, & laugh'd
when I beg'd I might have my Chance of Becoming an Artist.
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