I took her by th’ hand, and this pretty maid wept;
Sweet[,] weep not, quoth I: I kist her soft lip;
I wrung her by th’ hand, and my finger she nipt;
So long there I woo’d her, such reasons I shew’d her,
That she my speeches could not controul,
But cursied finely, and got up behind me,
And back she rode with me to Hockley-i’-th’-hole.
When I came to Hockley at the sign of the Cock,
By [a]lighting I chanced to see her white smock,
It lay so alluring upon her round knee,