THE
Quaker's Wives Lamentation
For the LOSS of
Her Husbands Jewels,
Who Gelded himself (in Petticoat-Lane ,) to vex his wife.
To the Tune of The Spinning Wheel. Licensed according to Order.
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Oh Wretched Woman that I am,
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That I was Wed to such a Man
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That should do so great Injury
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Both to himself and unto me,
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Mithinks, he might have let alone
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The Chiefest Branch, of Natures boon.
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Oh husband, husband, what have you done?
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You've parted with Jewels were none of your'n,
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But they were Jewels belonging to me,
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For which I'd not take Gold nor Fee;
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Them I delighted more to feel,
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Than e'er I did my Spinning Wheel.
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Ah! My dear Wife it was my fault
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That I am Lame, and thou must Hault,
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For had'st thou but prov'd true to me,
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Then I had done the like to thee,
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And if thou hadst been true my Girl,
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I ne'er had parted with Natures Pearl.
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Ah my Dear Wife thou dost not know
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What terrible pains I undergo
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For never man did feel such pain,
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I wish it were to do again,
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I should not do my dear such wrong,
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Nor be the Subject of this Song.
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Ah my Dear Husband, you're to blame,
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To bring upon us so much shame,
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For most men will both say, and swear
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That you wid go to next Horn-Fair,
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And if you there look like an Elf,
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Oh Husband you may thank your self.
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Dear Husband you have done me wrong,
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For Poets will put us in a Song,
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You might as well have cut off all,
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As leave behind a thing so small,
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And thus to break your Wedlock Band,
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To leave a Thing that cannot stand.
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Come my dear Wife before we part,
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I'll teach thee a trick and prove't by Art,
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These Ii Weis they shall do the same,
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As if that I were at the Game,
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Then do not doubt of thy own Cure,
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What pain soever I endure.
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The Powder thereof it is Divine,
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Then take it in a Glass of Wine,
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And if that I am not beguil'd,
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It will cause thee to prove with Child,
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And raise an Off-spring unto me,
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As if I were a kissing thee.
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Ah this is a very pretty Toy,
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That Quakers should themselves enjoy,
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And run in danger of their lives,
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On purpose for to vex their Wives,
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But if I chance to bury thee,
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The De'il a Quaker I will be.
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Now I'll set on a Resolution,
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I'll Tryal make of this Conclusion,
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And take it once a Month besure,
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What What pain soever I endure,
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I doubt the Cure will prove but Lame,
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There's nothing like to the Old Game.
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