PAPLET: OR, Love and Innocence. PASTORAL the I. A Gentle Swain yfed in Kentish Mead, The gentlest Swain that ever Flock did feed. Soft he beside the Stream of EDEN lay, And graz'd abie the Banks of fair MEDWAY. Up with the Morn, as lith as Lark, he'd rise; And Cubbin he, so said him Shepherd Boys. So as he sate, with LASS or toys the YOUTH; Or soft he sooth's, for soft can Cubbin sooth. There sweetly oped each Flower the little Lip, Fresh Honey-dew and Evening Air to sip. Was, when his CADE he'd kiss, and pretty play: Or bath in Brook, then roll on tender Lea. Sooth! would too RHIMES go make as loose he lay, (Though God-wot, to make RHIMES small Wit had he.) And wont out-scrawl and print 'em on the Sand, All as he lay along with Crook in Hand. Poor Pen, you'll say: — Ay and poor Poet too! But 'lack, must do what Heaven will have Us do. Yet happy he, in time, found means to mark His witless Tattle on a MAPLE's BARK. But ah, how should he, poor Boy, 'ere find out, Lines near enough to deck his TREE about. Forc'd was he Swains o'rehear behind some balk, Then on his TREE go print the tender Talk. Late he abie a Place of Pleasure lay, All fairly deckt in Sweets of fairest MAY. Where silkie Thighs in Dew Grass-hoppers bath'd; And merry cherruping, so rosie breath'd. Ye Surrey Swains! and Surrey Swains have bliss; I dare Ye show so soft a SHADE as this! Atween the dewie Leaves as Air was blown, The dewie Leaves yquivered every one. The why he came here was all for two Maids, He thought, were chatting nigh, of Love and Lads. He came the one to warn, that Youngling-breast The less did know of Love, did love the less. Pity'd her the soft Swain: to warn he strove, Lest the young HEART might hap to fall in love. Foreby him sate these Maids in loose Array, As fair and fresh as Summer Eve might see. Sweet gay-green Flowers, so pretty put anear, The Pink and Pancet pretty put anear. Soflin and Paplet they; (ah dainty THEY!) That ripe as Rose, this a soft-aged MEY. Both lith as Youngling Roe, all-tender too As Ladybird that lives on twinkling Dew. Paplet, a CHRISTIAN's and a JEWES's Child, Scarce five Year old, was laid, to starve in Field; For that the BABE' they could no longer hide: But all by hap an anciant SIRE it spy'd; Just starving; for the tender Teeth been broak, As twould crack Nutt: It smiled when up he took Oh sweet my Father reach that bough of HIPS! What must I do, ah how I've scratch'd my Lips! He tookt to's Cave; and pull'd the Thorns all out Her pretty Feet; they bled with walk about. There brought her up with Florey fresh his Son, Who hunts wild Beasts, 'tis what they live epon. Now sick if Sire or Son, she moans him meet, Soft tend's, with cheary Chat, and soothing sweet These gentle HEARTS small thought were Cubbin lay; In sooth some halfendeal undeckt they be. Honey-lip Gales soft breathed on their Hair, Waved their Cloaths, and did their Bosoms bare And well Iwis, as bare their bosoms, all The Flowerets out that decked 'em did fall. A Willow on the bank upheld their Heads, (Oh happy Tree, to hold such lovely Maids!) A soothing shade the rosie Sweetbreer gave; Where sang the Bird that sings so soft at Eve. Believe Me now, thus show'd they; by my fay As lovely show'd, as Lilly on the Lea! But sure that Paplet was the tend'rest Lass! Well ween I Cubbin lay at little Ease. So soft she seem'd! By Heav'n seem'd more than soft! Her Lip to touch he wish'd him, O how oft! Now soothly Paplet was the tend'rest Mey! Ah God! I small ween'd could so tender be! Some-deal her Paps been pufft, that sooth might seem The LITTLE LIFE now just of Love gan dream? Now say me, Shepherds, who could help ha' strove, To save so sweet a HEART from pain of Love? Love is a gentle pain, a pretty pain: He came to keep from loving Soltie's Swain. Soflin was fair as Morning DROP is fair, And Paplet tender as the Evening Air. When chatted they, so sweet their chatting were! Oh I could hear, methought, for ever hear! On FELLOW first, then TREE, they pretty loll, Quiver their little Lips, their Eyen roll. Sooth, ever and anon, as Soflin spoak, Paplet in extasie would hide her LOOK. Then asken more; yet shamed to asken more, (Of MEN and LOVE) but long'd to know so sore. Sometimes she'd fling her self epon the Grass: Then up, and catch in Arms her Fellow-lass. Why may'nt we Men, yquoth the youngling MEY, And why may'nt we grasp them? Us graspen they So pleased she was, and eager still to know, In sooth so pleased, she knew not what to do. But ill I say how sweet the Lasses sate, Oh that you'd seen 'em,, I'd give any what! This sooth I say (for sooth the Shepherds say) Soft simpering thus said the YOUNGLING MEY. The meaning of the MEY no whit I ween. I'm sure, when near I came, just thus she sain. Paplet. NOW much I marl: 'Tis pretty; if tell Truth! But say; Ha, Ha! Be HE so soft in sooth? Soflin. My gentle MEY, he is of gentlest mood. Oh that he were my BROTHER! sure I would Taken his Hand and tender lead him in, Whenso he to the distant Field had been. There pretty stroak his Hand, Ne have it said See Soflin there, O see! A fawning Maid! In his soft Bosom I my Hand would slip, And hang epon the sweetness of his Lip. Paplet. Don't, Soflin, don't! how can'st talk so? Lips sweet; How meanest sweet? How doen know be sweet? Soflin. All as a-green I walk with Collikin, The lovely'st Lad that ever walk'd a-green. If be I'm fray'd by Flood, by Boar or Bull, He sooth's me soft, and calls me softest Soul. Be it not pretty? b'lieve me, Pap, he doth! And holds me 'neath his lilly Arm now sooth! And sweet the Swain my Hand in his will nip, Then kiss me with the kisses of his Lip. So save me, SWEET, as truth I tell, when say (Why tarest the Flow'rs so fierce, my pretty MEY?) But hear me, CHICK! I seemen oft be fray, When I be not: But MAIDS should seem they say. Paplet. And so; why but — and pretty'st be't then Maid, Be lip'd when frayed art? I'll be afraid! Soflin. Prettier? Oh prettier, CHILD, than may be thought, You mayn't hug Men. if be you fearen nought: But sure, so sweet it is, so hug in Arms! Skuttle to DEAR, and have him hide from harms! Paplet. No more, but then? Yet kind be Swains, you said; How kind? Mayn't kiss, Would kissing kill 'em, Maid? But soft! meseem'd — oh I'd have heard for nought Our simple Chat, for ours is simple Chat! Soflin. Set still SWEET! Wind might wag: Or LEVERIT rush, With Cock-up Ears: don't go! or Bird from bush. Paplet. That Cubbinet I fear, for whom the MEYS Late joyn'd, and bought a PIPEIT; all I guess To busy him, and keep from kissing so. The Swain that whispers us in Ear, you know, That he can sing, then snatches a quick kiss; Sooth, as the Mey suspecteth nought amiss. Now the poor HEART's so pleased with his Pipe! Fore GREAT ONES he can't hold, but lay'th to's lip. Soflin. I know the Swain, a tender Swain is he! Fear him not Paplet, fear him not SWEET MEY. I know the Swain, Who sooths so soft as he! Believe me Lass, he'll never harm SWEET MEY. Paplet. Oh, but he often skulks a-hind a balk, To hear the harmless Shepherdess in talk. Then tells the Chat to SPARKS at the great-Town, Who maken Mock at Speech of simple Clown. Ne strange, I trow; for say me. SWEET, is't fit Our weetless Tittletattle weren writ? Unkindly Cubbinet! untoward boy! Else, by my fay! he is a GENTLE BOY. Soflin. Sooth is he, but to kissing he's so given! He'll kiss till he's odd, and then kiss to come even. He'll kiss at the Hedge, and he'll kiss at the Gate; He'll kiss if the chattering Magpie but prate! Paplet. But how must do if Swain should ere kiss me? He'll put my Arms around him, didst not say: Oh! — if to put my hands a-hind he goes: May strive pull 'way, and that will pull him close! Soflin. Be sure look tender, when to lip he go: But, sooth if say, Thou canst not help look so. That dainty dimple in thy little Cheek, So soft thee show's, so modest, and so meek! Paplet. Worst is, if ever YOUNGLING cast to lay My hand in's bosom, 'twill so pretty be, Not I know how, O I shan't help the fault, But blush, poor son! how Soflie must I not? So Paplet, softest Paplet, as she said, Her sweet-dew Lips on Soflies Bosom laid. Soflin. No help, I ween; what will be, best let be. But bad in thee, my CHICK, more bad in me. Paplet. Yet STRIPLIN CHEEK look pretty so, meweet; (All as the Rose in bed of Lillys set.) For Florrey late to the great-town ha' been; But oh, when first me saw, how blush'd the Swain! Cause why; the sweetlip boy then cast to kiss; Yet say me soft, be that so much amiss? Soflin. If be but why, small harm ybe I weet. Colly and I late roved, Nuts to get. I witless was so bonny and so brag, (Paplet beware not be with Love so wag) I scratchen Chin; ah luckless Lass the when! See here but, Paplet! I all scratch'd my Chin! The Wound he wiped, and kist it 'ore and 'ore; Why sooth now, Paplet, else 'twould been a sore. Whatso I could to bar my blush, I did; Yet ween not whether somedeal look'd not red. But 'twas allfor his Eyes so soft did seem: While Honeybreath epon my Neck would steam. And oh, his ringlet-locks too, where they fell Tittled my breasts! and I was 'shamed to tell. Paplet. Why 'shamed? I would ha' stroak'd 'em off his Face: And sooth now so, had'st felt how soft it was! Oh pleasant! how you've lived! Didest not tho' Out's Bosom take his LOCKS, when in did blow? Do let me lye A-LEA with ye, now wo't? For oft ye setten so, Lass, do ye not. Soflin. This Morn sweet sate we 'neath this sweet Maybough; Ye Kentish Swains, no softer seat ye know! The Flowers suck'd Honey-dew (O dainty draught!) Soft for the Bees to sip that sip so soft. Under my head a hand fair laid the Boy; Then sinking down yclosen sleepie Eye. Paplet. Ay? say'st in sooth? and then — why dost not say? Was it not lovely, when so loose he lay? Meseems I should ha' pleased with tender Tongue Or sooth'd, the while, with softness of a Song. So as she said (and who so sweet can sain) Her little Leg would in her Fellow's twine. Then dainty'd droppen Hand in Soflie Breast: Ah dainty Hand! how Cubbin yearn'd to kiss't! Soflin. Oh soft I lull'd him, soft as I could lull; And in my Bosom put his Head to loll! Sweet glow'd the while, his pretty rosie Cheek; Smooth lay elong his Limbs, so slim and slieke. Fair fed I on the fairness of his Face; O Paplet, didst but ween how pleasant 'twas! Paplet. I've heard 'tis dainty lye along with Ene We love; say Soflie, be't so dainty then? Soflin. Dainty? Ay dainty more than heart may weet Don't look at me, Pap, and I'll tell thee what. I putten hand in's bosom now that be's, So silkie soft! then gently gave't a kiss! Soft simpering saiden this the lovely Maid. While Paplet 'tween her twey her hand fair had; Who oft would turn and shift, as ill at ease: Cubbin did too to see't. Ah careful Case! Paplet. Stay, Soflin, list! Heard I not some one sneeze 'Twas 'mong the SEDGE; fast by those murmuring Bees! Soflin. Poor CHICK, how thou dost quake! prethee leave quake. Sooth 'twas some Bird but chirp'd in th'bushie brake Paplet. Much Wonder give it me, my gentle DEAR! Thou nought, ne any one, suspectest 'ere. Soflin. Why wouldst have fear? I wonder why dost warn!. When I have wrong'd, then I to fear will learn. Sure Soflin none will harm; if Soflin none; And well I ween, I never any one. But look, ah me! how Flow'rs be blown out hair; And bosom too! — But LOVIE likes it bare. Paplet. Then do Lads like in sooth, or seemen they? I've heard say, YOUNGLING SWAIN will harm YOUNG MEY. Yet Florrey looks so pretty and so pert, Nought I know how, fancy he could not hurt. And Collikin, O me! but Collikin, Of all the Swains, for me — he is the Swain! Soflin. O simple he's of Chear, and meek of Mein; All-fine his Flesh, and sooth as soft his Skin! So prettily his Words slip off his Tongue, With a little waggish Lisp emong! But when he sooths too pleasant 'tis to bear! He kisses, I ask if a rosie be near! But see there! Lallet's CADE! how that came there? Sure by the Lamb the Lassie should be near! Oh! Well beween'd! We bath in Brook this Eve You see where SPRAYS so sweet a shadow give. You're one; and Lallet Lass so heavenly hewn; And Poppit maiden ripe as Rose in June. This Florey loves; and Fauney fresh love that; Cuddleit say some. Up Lass! mayhap they wait. THEY go: Their BOSOMS ope to th' Evening Air: And dip their blooming BEAUTYS fresh and fair: They pretty play and paddle in the Wet: And strow with fairest Flow'rs the Streamulet But Paplet wistful was; On bank she set, Siping the Honeysukles juicie SWEET. But ah, her mind elsewhere! alass on love! Oh Soflin, thou hast wrong'd a tender DOVE! When parted All; and All hied home; she made As if she too; but silent by Moonshade, Stale back to th' BUSH; with hands in bosom laid, (Those hands all fair as flower) and hanging head. Mayhap (soft said she) now HE goes to Bed. I wonder how HE lyes when there he's laid! Besure HE mind's not me when 'mong the Swains. O could I touch HIM but, just touch meseems! Yet looked she at Moonshine on the Stream; That twinkled fair, and strove not think on him. Mused too on th' varying FIGURES made on Grass, By th' Light, that 'tween the waving Trees did pass. Where fancyeth she depainten this and that, (But all of Love) atill to th' BUSH did get. There blush'd when first it saw to think that she Should so steal back to th' place where Colly lay. And am I then? And am I grown, she sain, (With that gan pretty finger put in Eyen). So sly and false? Oh Heav'n! don't see! or do, Forgive! — small weeneth Soflin where I now. So saying on the bank adown she laid. Just where the Swainet lean'd, as Soflin said. Then, smiling, thus: MAYHAP his head was put Where mine is now: Who knows? O happy ROOT! This gentle Cubbinet did see and hear, Waiting abie, the pretty HEART to chear. He went to sooth her soft, and warn her how She thought on Collikin. All would not do. Soon as she saw, she started from her seat: Ne would she hear him Pipe, ne talk awhit. So that he made as if went strait away; But went no farther then afore he lay. The dainty-limbed Lass, as soft to see, As springing Flowrets in the Month of May, Smooth laid her slender Features down again, All on the sweetness of the Flowrie Plain. Ah gentle HEART! ah HEART of prettiness! Where is the Dalliance, and the tender Kiss? Then sigh'd out this the rosie-liped Lass, Soft as her Eye on Heaven yfixen was. WHAT aileth, O what aileth thee, my Heart; Now sooth meseem's thou be'st not as thou wer't. Be Collikin (ah would he other was!) Far fairer than the fairest Lad or Lass, Yet what have I to do with Collikin? Let me not be, e're be for Soflie's Pain! Tho', methinks, were he not her's, I could well Wish he were mine, Oh me, how wish him well! Thus sate the YOUNGLING MEY, till far the Night Was spent, and sooth the Moon nigh lost her light. Then up gan rise; but 'ere she 'gan up rise, Tuck'd up her Hair, and wiped her dewie Eyes. The SOFTHEART SWAIN (for Swainets all are so) Staid till he wept, and when he wept did go. Unhappy Soflin! Now there love's with thee, The sweetest Mey that ever Sun did see. All he had seen or heard, in head kept he, To cut on Crook, or mark upon his Tree. For sure there is not who can envy that; Not one, I ween, can envy LASSE's CHAT. But why so fond of LASSES CHAT, say you. Oh, had you seen 'em, you'd ha' been so too! Ye gentle YOUTHS! who rove where led by chance If be on Paplet's grief your Eye should glance, Think the poor Lass mishap enough has had; Ah don't you add, by hating what she said! Ween, if ye maken mock at it, ye make At Paplet mock; don't so, for Pappie's sake!