The Complete Newgate Calendar, Vol. I
GILDEROY'S LAST FAEWE1
| GILDEROY was a bonny Boy,
had roses tull his shun, His Stockings made of the finest silk, his Garters hanging down It was a comely sight to see, he were so trim a Boy; He was my Joy and Heart's Delight, my handsom Gilderoy. Oh, sike a charming Eyen he had, a breath as sweet as Rose He never wore a Highland plad, but costly silken Cloaths He gain'd the love of Ladies gay, there's none to him was coy; Ah way's me, Ise mourn this Day for my dear Gilderoy My Gilderoy and I was born both in one town together, Not passing seven Years ago, since one did love each other: Our Daddies and our Mammies both, were cloath'd with mickle joy, To think upon the Bridal-day, betwixt I and my Gilderoy . For Gilderoy, that Love of mine, gued faith Ise freely bought A wedding sark of Holland fine, with silken flowers wrought; And he gave me a wedding-ring, which I receiv'd with joy; No Lads or Lassies e'er could sing, like my sweet Gilderoy. In mickle joy we spent our time, till we was both fifteen, Then gently he did lay me down, amongst the leaves so green ; When he had done what he could do, he rose and gang'd his way, But ever since I lov'd the Man, my handsom Gilderoy. While we did both together play, he kiss'd me o're and o're; Gued faith it was as blith a day, as e're I saw before He fill'd my heart in e'ry vein, with love and mickle joy; But when shall I behold again, mine own sweet Gilderoy? 'Tis pity Men should e're be hang'd, that takes up Women's geer, Or for their pelfering sheep or calves, Or stealing cow or mare; Had not our laws been made so strict, I'd never lost my Joy, Who was my Love and Heart's Delight, my handsom Gilderoy. 'Cause Gilderoy had done amiss, must he be punish'd then ? What kind of cruelty is this, to hang such handsom Men? The Flower of the Scotish Land a sweet and lively Boy, He likewise had a Lady's hand, my handsom Gilderoy. At Leith they took my Gilderoy, and there, God wot, they bang'd him, Carry'd him to fair Edenburgh, and there, God wot, they hang'd him, They hang'd him up above the rest, he was so trim a Boy, My only Love and Heart's Delight, my handsom Gilderoy. Thus having yielded up his breath, in cyprus he was laid, Then for my Dearest, after death, a funeral I made, Over his grave a marble stone, I fixed for my Joy, Now I am left to weep alone, for my dear Gilderoy. |