THE Country Parson's Folly: Or, the Young Dutch Woman of Westminster come off with Flying Colours. To the Tune of Folly, desperate Folly, etc. IT is reported in the East, a Scholar of late did dwell, Who on young Maids did love to feast, It pleased his humour well: But coming to London, he chanced to adore A pretty Dutch Frow, which did pay his old score, Now this was a plague, and the devil all over. O Parson, delicate Parson, How do you like the Town. He came to a Dutch ordinary, where he the young frow beheld, And when her tempting charms he see, he was with a rapture filled: She was of the birth and the brèed of the Dutch, He pulled out his money altho' 'twas not much▪ For why, he was eager and mad for a touch. O Parson delicate Parson▪ Why would you play the fool? Her country man a marriage read After the Dutch fashion too, This done, 'tis said they went to bed, without any more to do, He pitched on a subject was hard by the rump, And into her Pulpit he straghtways did jump, Where all the long night he her cushion did thump O Parson, delicate Parson, Why would you play the fool? He gave her money the next day, to make her both neat and trim, Silks, ribbons, laces rich and gay, in order to go with him Down into the country where did reside, For she was as sweet and as pleasant a bride, As ever young gallant did lie by the side. O Parson, delicate Parson, Why would you play the fool? He many solemn vows did make, when he did the money give, That he his love woul● ne'er forsake, while he had a da● to live: But yet, when his pocket began to be low, Why then from his vows he was willing to go, And likewise a scandal on her he did throw. O Parson, delicate Parson, Why would you play the fool? He having had his fill of ●er, he called for his coin again, Making a noise and strange demur, resolving he would Arraign This pretty sweet creature, his joy & delight, Pretending she took it away by a slight, Which loss was sufficient to ruin him quite. O Parson, delicate Parson, Why would you serve her so? This pretty creature she was tried, for what she had never done, This was ill treating of a bride, but she has the conquest won: For when in the court at the bar she appeared, And that the wise jury the story had heard, The scholar was flouted, the woman was cleared. O Parson, delicate Parson, How did you like the Game? In this you have not aged well, alas, you are much to blame, That such a man should kiss and tell, O that is a burning shame; If you had been wise, you had let her alone, And then your grand folly had never been known, But now far & near it is scattered and blown. O Parson, delicate Parson, Never do so no more. London, Printed for I. Bissel at the Bible and Harp, near the Hospital-gate in West-Smi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉