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Ripest Apples

Britain, widespread.
The tune is Irish.

    Madam, I am come to court you,
    If so be you'll let me in.
    Sit you down, you're kindly welcome,
    Then perhaps you'll call again.

    Madam, I've got gold and silver,
    Madam, I've got house and land,
    Madam, I've a world of pleasure,
    All to be at your command.

    I don't value your gold and silver,
    I don't value your house and land,
    I don't value your worlds of pleasure,
    All I want is a handsome man.

    Why do you dive so deep in beauty ?
    It's a flower will soon decay.
    You pick it on a summer's morning,
    Before the evening it fades away.

    Ripest apples are soonest rotten,
    Hottest love is soonest cold.
    Young men's words are soon forgotten,
    Pretty maid, don't be too bold.

    After cowslips there come roses,
    After night there comes a day,
    After false love comes a true love,
    So our time will pass away.

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