No More Learning

Under those poplars we are sure to meet him.

_First Girl_. But that for me is no great fun;
For you are always sure to get him,
He never dances with any but you.
Great good to me your luck will do!

_Others_. He's not alone, I heard him say,
The curly-head would be with him to-day.

_Scholar_. Stars! how the buxom wenches stride there!
Quick, brother! we must fasten alongside there.
Strong beer, good smart tobacco, and the waist
Of a right handsome gall, well rigg'd, now that's my taste.

_Citizen's Daughter_. Do see those fine, young fellows yonder!
'Tis, I declare, a great disgrace;
When they might have the very best, I wonder,
After these galls they needs must race!
_Second scholar_ [_to the first_].
Stop! not so fast! there come two more behind,
My eyes! but ain't they dressed up neatly?
One is my neighbor, or I'm blind;
I love the girl, she looks so sweetly.
Alone all quietly they go,
You'll find they'll take us, by and bye, in tow.

_First_. No, brother! I don't like these starched up ways.
Make haste! before the game slips through our fingers.
The hand that swings the broom o' Saturdays
On Sundays round thy neck most sweetly lingers.

_Citizen_. No, I don't like at all this new-made burgomaster!
His insolence grows daily ever faster.