THE
Bonny Broom.
A SONG,
New fet to MUSIC.

HOW blihe was I each Morn, to see
My Swain come o'er the Hill;
He leap'd the Brook, and flew to me,
I met him with good Will.

## CHORUS.

O, the Broom, the Broom; the bonny,
bonny, bonny Broom,
The Broom on Cowden-Knows;
I with I was with my dear Swain,
With his Pipe, and I my Ewes.

I neither wanted Ewe nor Lamb,
When his Flock near me lay;
He gather'd in my Sheep at Night,
And cheer'd me all the Day.

O, the Broom, &c.

He tun'd his Pipe and Reed so sweet,
The Birds perch'd lift'ning by;
The fleecy Flock stood still, and gaz'd,
Charm'd with his Melody.

O, the Broom, &c.

While thus we spent our Time by turns,
Betwixt our Flock and Play,

I envy'd not the fairest Dame,
Tho' e'er so rich or gay.

O, the Broom, &c.

He did oblige me every Hour,
Could I but faithful be?
He stole my Heart, could I refufe
What-e'er he aff'd of me?

O, the Broom, &c.

Hard Fate, that I muſt banifh'd be,
Gang heavily and mourn !

Because I lov'd the kindeft Swain
That ever yet was born.

O, the Broom, &c.

Printed and Sold at GARRATT's Print-
ing-Office, in LYNN, Norfolk.