An ANSWER to the
Dairy Maids Tragedy:
Or, The sad Overthrow of two West Country LOVERS, Wil -
liam and Susan whose Deaths are so much lamented (by a worthy 'Squire) who
had the hard Fortune to behold this double Tragedy. To the Tune of, The
Nightingale's Song.
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T He Dairy-maid's Tragedy when I beheld,
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My Heart with sad sorrow and grief being fill'd;
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I pay'd her a Tribute of passionate Tears,
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To see how she died in the prime of her Years.
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So soon as the breath from he body was fled,
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My thoughts a black Cloud hover'd over my Head;
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The Sky that before was right pleasant and clear,
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Did now in a Mantle of Mourning appear.
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It rain'd as if Heaven with pity did weep,
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To see a wrong'd Lover laid fast in a sleep,
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Who had been both loving, nay, loyal and kind.
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Yet forced to die, by the torment of mind.
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Behold e'ry Creater was heavy and sad,
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There was not a cherishing look to be had;
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The Lambs blated forth a right sorrowful mourn,
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While the woody Queresters sung a sad tone.
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They cloaked their wings, & their heads they hung down,
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And Fortune came knitting her brows with a frown;
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With Billy who follow'd behind her, that he,
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Might see the effects of his late pargury.
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Now when he came near were the Dairy-maid lay,
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Whose cheeks they were pale, likewise colder then clay;
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Then smiting his breast at the sudden surprize,
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While sorrowful tears trickle down from his eyes,
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Alas! I have ruin'd a Lover, he cry'd,
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Who often I promis'd to make my own Bride;
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But since I was cruel and fallse to my oath,
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I find it will now be the ruin of both.
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I took him immediately fast by the hand,
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And said by your words, I do well understand,
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That you are the Person that ruin'd this Maid,
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Her innocent heart with her life you betray'd.
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There never was Creater more constant than she,
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Free hearted and loving in every degree:
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Her favours on you, she did often bestow,
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And yet you have proved her sad overthrow.
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Quoth he, I confess that her kindness was more
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Then e're I deserv'd for she still had in store,
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Some good thing or other to treat her poor Will ;
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Yet I was ungrateful and slighted her still:
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How many sweet Sullebubs have I enjoy'd?
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She fed me with Custards until I was cloy'd:
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Nay, nothing was wanting that she could procure.
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But as for young Nancy and Kate I am sure,
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They never would give me so much as a bit
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Of Pudding or Pey-crust, or ought that was fit,
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For any true Lover to rellish or eat;
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Those Damsels, alas! I was forced to treat.
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But Susan , poor Susan , was kinder then so,
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But yet I have prov'd her invincible Foe;
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Small reason I had for to prove so untrue,
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For none of them all was so kind as poor Sue.
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When we with young Lovers have gone to a Fair,
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If she has but known that my pockets was bare,
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Poor Creater she presently call'd me aside,
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Then into my hands she a tester would slide.
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But now she is dead and will give me no more;
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I wish that my sorrowful sighs could restore
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Poor Susan to life; but my wishes are vain,
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No sighs in the World can recal her again.
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She is clearly departed, her lips they are cold,
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The picture of Death in her face I behold;
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My life is a burden, therefore let me die,
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For there is no Creater so wretched as I.
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Then straight he withdrew to the brink of a rock,
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And turning about he took leave of his flock;
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Then threw himself head-long down into the Seas,
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Where under the billows he sunk by degrees.
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Where Neptune immediately made him a grave,
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And cover'd the same with a watery wave.
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Thus did I behold the destruction of both:
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O! Lovers hence forward be true to your oath.
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FINIS.
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