The Westminster Madams Lamentation
For the breaking up of the CAMPAIGN at Hounslow-Heath, and the loss of their Pleasure
they used to receive there. Together with Souldiers kind Answer, in Com-
forting them, with hopes of meeting again the next Summer.
To the Tune of, O Mother! Roger, etc.
This may be Printed, R. P.
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THe Army now returns to London,
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and farewel to the Campaign,
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Now (alas) I am quite undone,
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left to sigh and to complain:
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[F]ickle Fortune has me crost,
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What a Lover have I lost?
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What a Hero, brave and fine,
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[L]ik'd and lov'd this face of mine!
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[B]ut yet I hope the next Campaign,
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to see these Soldiers once again.
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The Mirth we had I can't discover,
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(every thing to please the mind)
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[N]ot one discontented Lover,
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but all blith and wondrous kind:
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[W]ell may Women then complain,
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Till they see such Men again,
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Till they see such Youth and Fire,
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(Able to create Desire)
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But I hope the next Campaign,
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to see these Soldiers once again.
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I lik'd the place beyond expressing,
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(I ne'r saw a Camp so fine)
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Not a Maid in a Plain-Dressing,
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but might taste a Glass of Wine:
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Mirth and Bounty there was found,
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(Flew like Light about the ground)
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More then I can here relate,
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But those joys are out of Date,
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Yet still I hope the next Campaign,
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to see these Soldiers once again.
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I Mourn those Pleasures now are over,
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that those joys are fled and gone,
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That I must now loose my Lover,
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and in vain must make my moan:
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Oh! the Men that I have seen,
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All around that Glorious Green;
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Oh! the Pleasures which that place,
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Did afford to every Face:
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Yet still I hope the next Campaign,
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to see these Soldiers once again.
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But joys are dreams, (they last no longer
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yet we must to Fate submit,
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All the Beauties of the Younger
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must decay and yield to it:
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In each Tavern, and each Street,
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I'le see now if I can meet
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This same Soldier brisk and fine,
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That has won this heart of mine:
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And still hope the next Campaign,
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to see my Dearest once again.
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Fair joys betide thee (Soldier) ever,
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I am glad I have thee found,
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Let not Fortune now us sever,
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lest you leave me in a sound:
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Welcome (Dearest) tell me when
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I shall Hounslow see agen,
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That fair lovely pleasing sight,
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Which abounded with Delight:
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Indeed I hope the next Compaign,
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to see the Soldiers once again,
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My fairest, Fortune now is Cruel,
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for I dare not now mind Love,
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Thy fair Face is Cupids Fuel,
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and those joys I long to prove:
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But we must be both content,
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Till the Winter is quite spent;
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The fair Spring will bring Delight,
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Bring again that pleasing sight?
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And then (my Love) the next Campaign,
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you'l see the Soldiers all again.
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We will next Spring renew our pleasure
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but now Business calls away,
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I have (now) no time or leasure,
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and I dare not longer stay:
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But it may not be amiss,
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For to have a parting Kiss,
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Farewel now to my sweat Dear,
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You must not dispair or fear:
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For still I hope the next Campaign,
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to see my Fairest once again.
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FINIS.
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