The Sorrowful BRIDE;
OR,
The London Lasses Lamentation for her Husbands Insufficiency.
Tune of, Let Caesar Live long .
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I Have now been Marry'd a Twelvemonth and more,
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And here is a sorrow which troubles me sore;
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As having my Maiden-head now to this day:
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Is this not enough to make me run astray?
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Alas! I am almost a weary of Life,
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For to live a Maiden, tho' a Marry'd Wife.
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My Husband is one of the most largest size,
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And what is the reason I cannot devise,
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That he should thus baulk a young Woman, I vow,
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The sweet Joy and Pleasure he doth not allow;
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The which makes me almost a weary of Life,
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For to live a Maiden, tho' a Marry'd Wife.
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He brought me much Riches of Silver and Gold,
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With Houses and Land too, the which was Freehold;
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And gave me a Chain, with a rich Diamond Ring,
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But I am still wanting a far better thing:
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Which makes me, I tell ye, quite weary of Life,
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For to live a Maiden, tho' a Marry'd Wife.
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I Kiss him and hugg him both morning and night,
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Which may be sufficient, I think, to invite
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A Huaband, methinks, to the passion of Love;
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Yet nothing, I find, will his appetite move:
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The thoughts of these things makes me weary of Life,
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For to live a Maiden, tho' a Marry'd Wife.
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I'm sure I am Youthful and Beautiful too,
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And yet notwithstanding he nothing will do,
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But lies like a Log or a Stone in my Bed,
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At which I have wish'd my self twenty times dead:
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For why I am utterly weary of Life,
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To live a young Maiden, and a Marry'd Wife.
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Alas! was he Aged, I could not expect
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The pleasure which he does thus dayly neglect;
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His Age is not now above Twenty-one years,
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Yet in pure affection he never appears:
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This makes me, I tell ye, quite weary of Life,
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To live a young Maiden, yet a Marry'd Wife.
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I take him each night in my Amorous Arms,
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In hopes to provoke him to Loves pleasing Charms;
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But straight he falls into a slumber or sleep,
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And I the mean while do both sigh, sob and weep:
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Have I not just cause to be weary of Life,
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To live a young Maiden, yet a Marry'd Wife.
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I feed him with Lamb-stones, nay Cock-broth and Cream
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In hopes that thereby he may most pleasant seem;
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But yet notwithstanding this delicate Chear,
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I tell you no Lye, I am never the near:
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It makes me Distracted and weary of Life,
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To live a young Maiden, yet a Marry'd Wife.
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My Sister she marry'd a Cock of the Game,
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And that was, I tell ye, young Robin by name:
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Before she full seventeen Weeks had been wed,
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With a Son and Daughter she was brought to Bed
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But here I lye sighing, quite weary of Life,
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To live a young Maiden, etc .
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Now see what a lusty stout Fellow has done,
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When I'de a been thankful for one only Son;
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But my earnest wishes I find are in vain,
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In sad sobs and sorrowful sighs I complain;
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As being, I tell ye, quite weary of Life,
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For I am a Maiden, yet a Marry'd Wife.
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FINIS.
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