%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A VVomans VVork is never done / Here is a Song for Maids to sing, / Both in the Winter and the Spring; / It is such a pretty conceited thing, / Which will much pleasure to them bring. / Maids may sit still, go, or run, / But a Womans work is never done. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1654-1654 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/25/2011 30355

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R215948 2 a delicate Northern Tune UNKNOWN A Delicate Northern Tune the same Tune UNKNOWN The Same Tune AS I was wandring on the way, / I heard a married Woman say, ANd when my pottage=pot is ready to hoil, / I must be careful all the while; I'm sure a Womans work is never done. [with variation] And thus a Womans work is never done. Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 534 1: 535 A VVomans VVork is never done / Here is a Song for Maids to sing, / Both in the Winter and the Spring; / It is such a pretty conceited thing, / Which will much pleasure to them bring. / Maids may sit still, go, or run, / But a Womans work is never done. A VVomans VVork is never done Here is a Song for Maids to sing, Both in the Winter and the Spring; It is such a pretty conceited thing, Which will much pleasure to them bring. Maids may sit still, go, or run, But a Womans work is never done. A Woman's Work is never done Here is a Song for Maids to sing, Both in the Winter and the Spring; It is such a pretty conceited thing, Which will much pleasure to them bring. Maids may sit still, go, or run, But a Woman's work is never done. 1654-1654 John Andrews

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious types & sects royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic The New World travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgarities/ crass humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 4/25/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America gender labor/ craft marriage Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/25/2011 3:39:22 PM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 4/25/2011 3:39:22 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 3:39:22 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 3:39:22 PM Transcriptionist Two Hehmeyer, Paxton Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 3:39:22 PM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/22/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 2/19/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/19/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/19/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/7/2008 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/29/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Womans Work is never done</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Here is a Song for Maids to sing,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Both in the Winter and the Spring;</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">It is such a pretty conceited thing,</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Which will much pleasure to them bring.</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Maids may sit still, go, or run,</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">But a Womans work is never done.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To a delicate Northern Tune, <hi rend="bold">A Womans work is never done,</hi> Or, <hi rend="bold">The Beds making.</hi></hi></seg>
AS I was wandring on the way, I heard a married Woman say, That she had lived a sollid life, Ever since the time that she was made a wife. For why (quoth she) my Labor is hard, And all my pleasures are debarrd: Both Morning, Evening, Night and Noon, Im sure a Womans work is never done. And now (quoth she) I wil relate, The manner of my woful Fate; And how my self I do bestow, As all my Neighbours well do know: And therein all that will it hear, Unto my song I pray a while give ear; Ile make it plainly to appear right soon, How that a Womans work is never done. For when that I rise up early in the morn, Before that I my head with dressings adorn, I sweep & cleanse the house as need doth require Or if that it be cold, I make a fire:
Then my Husbands breakfast I must dress, To fill his belly with some wholesom mess; Perhaps thereof I eat a little or none, But Im sure a Womans work is never done. Next thing that I in order do, My children must be lookt unto; Then I take them from their naked beds, To put on their clothes and comb their heads: And then what hap soever do betide, Their breakfast straight I must provide. Bread cries my Daughter, and drink my Son, And thus a Womans work is never done. And when that I have filld their bellies full, Some of them I pack away to School, All save one sucking Childe, that at my brest Doth knaw and bite, and sorely me molest: But when I have laid him down to sleep, I am constraind the house to keep, For then the Pottage-pot I must hang on, And thus a Womans work is never done.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second Part to the same Tune.</hi></seg>
ANd when my pottage-pot is ready to hoil, I must be careful all the while; And for to scum the Pot is my desire, Or else all the fat will run ith fire. But when thleven a clock bell it doth chime, Then I know tis near upon dinner time: To lay the Table-cloth I then do run, And thus a Womans work is never done. When dinner time is gone and over-past, My Husband he runs out oth doors in haste; He scarce gives me a kiss for all that I Have dealt and done to him so lovingly. Which sometimes grieves me to the heart, To see him so clownishly depart: But to my first Discourse let me go on, To shew a Womans work is never done. Theres never a day from morn to night, But I with work am tired quite; For when the game with me is at the best, I hardly in a day take one hours rest: Sometimes I knit, and sometimes I spin, Sometimes I wash, and somtimes I do wring, Sometimes I sit and sowe by my self alone, And thus a Womans work is never done. In making of the Beds such pains I take, Until my back, and sides, and arms do ake; And yet my Husband deals so cruelly, That he but seldom comes to comfort me.
And then at night when the clock strikes nine My Husband he will say, tis supper time; Then presently he must be waited upon, And thus a Womans work is never done. When Suppers ended to bed we must go, You all do know tis fitting it should be so: Then do I think to settle all things right, In hope that I shall take some rest by night. The biggest of my Children together I lay, And place them by degrees so well as I may: But yet there is a thing to be thought upon, For why a Womans work is never done. Then if my Husband turns me to the wall, Then my sucking Childe will cry and brawl, Six or seven times for the brest twil cry, And then I pray you judge what rest take I. And if at at any time a sleep I be, Perchance my Husband wakes, & then wakes me; Then he does that to me which I cannot shun, Yet I could wish that Work were oftner done. All you merry Girles that hear this Ditty, Both in the Countrey, and in the City; Take good notice of my Lines I pray, And make the use of the time you may: You see that Maids live more merrier lives, Then do the best of married Wives: And thus to end my Song as I begun, You know a Womans work is never done.
Entred according to Order. London, Printed for John Andrews, at the White Lion in Pye-Corner.