The parson for him staid;

Yet, by his leave (for all his haste,)
He did not so much wish all past
(Perchance) as did the maid.

The maid, (and thereby hangs a tale;
For, such a maid no Whitsun' ale
Could ever yet produce)—
No grape that's kindly ripe could be
So round, so plump, so soft as she,
Nor half so full of juice.

Her finger was so small, the ring
Would not stay on which they did bring,

It was too wide a peck:

And to say truth, for out it must,
It look'd like the great collar, just,
About our young colt's neck.

Her feet beneath her petticoat
Like little mice stole in and out,

As if they fear'd the light:
But oh! she dances such a way-

No sun upon an Easter day

Is half so fine a sight!

He would have kiss'd her once or twice,

But she would not, she was so nice,

She would not do't in sight:

And then she look'd as who should say, "I will do what I list to-day,

"And you shall do't at night."

Her cheeks so rare a white was on,
No daisy makes comparison,

(Who sees them is undone;)

For streaks of red were mingled there,
Such as are on a catherine pear
(The side that's next the sun.)

Her lips were red, and one was thin,
Compar'd to that was next her chin
(Some bee had stung it newly ;)
But, Dick, her eyes so guard her face,
I durst no more upon them gaze
Than on the sun in July.

Her mouth so small when she does speak,

Thou'dst swear her teeth her words did break,

That they might passage get;

But she so handled still the matter,

They came as good as ours, or better,
And are not spent a whit.

If wishing should be any sin,
The parson himself had guilty been,

She look'd that day so purely;
And, did the youth so oft the feat
At night as some did in conceit,

It would have spoil'd him surely.

Passion, oh me! how I run on!
There's that that would be thought upon,

I trow, besides the bride.

The business of the kitchen's great,

For it is fit that men should eat,

Nor was it there denied.

Just in the nick the cook knock'd thrice,

And all the waiters in a trice

His summons did obey:

Each serving man, with dish in hand,
March'd boldly up, like our train'd band,
Presented, and away.

When all the meat was on the table,

What man of knife or teeth was able

To stay to be intreated?

And this the very reason was,

Before the parson could say grace

The company was seated.*

* In the first edition of Suckling's works the three preceding stanzas were differently arranged. The order adopted above,

Now hats fly off, and youths carouse,

Healths first go round, and then the house,
The bride's came thick and thick;
And when 'twas nam'd another's health,
Perhaps he made it her's by stealth;
(And who could help it, Dick?)

O' th' sudden up they rise and dance;
Then sit again, and sigh, and glance;
Then dance again and kiss:

Thus several ways the time did pass,
Till every woman wish'd her place,
And every man wish'd his.

By this time all were stol'n aside
To counsel and undress the bride:-
But that he must not know :-

But yet 'twas thought he guess'd her mind,
And did not mean to stay behind

Above an hour or so.

When in he came, Dick, there she lay,
Like new-fall'n snow melting away:

which the sense indeed seems to require, is justified by a copy in "Witt's Recreations," 1654, and has been followed by the later editors.

('Twas time, I trow, to part.) Kisses were now the only stay,

Which soon she gave, as who would say, "Good boy! with all my heart."

But just as heavens would have, to cross it,
In came the bride-maids with the posset;
The bridegroom ate in spite;
For had he left the women to 't,
It would have cost two hours to do 't,
Which were too much that night.

At length the candle's out, and now
All that they had not done they do;
What that is, who can tell?

But I believe it was no more

Than thou and I have done before

With Bridget and with Nell.