The Laundry-Maids Lamentation
for the loss of her Seaman.
The Seaman made a mighty shew of Love,
And vow'd & swore that he would constant prove.
He brought her presents from the Golden shore,
And thus unlockt her Heart and Chamber-door:
But when he'd gain'd his will he march'd away,
And left his Mistris with a Kid to play.
Now she laments, and tears her flaxen Hair;
He's shipwrackt, and she's ready to dispair.
Tune of, Ah Jenny. This may be Printed.
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C Ome mourn with me fair Nymphs, come mourn
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my grief's beyond compare,
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My trusty Will will ne'r return,
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he's deaf to Nannys Prayer:
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I cry, I mourn both night and day,
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to think of my Willy 's Fate;
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For his Return I alwaies pray,
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but Prayers are all too late.
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Some Calenture has seiz'd his breast,
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for i'm inform'd he's dead;
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Some Shark his body has possest,
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his soul to Heaven is fled:
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[B]ut yet I dream he comes to me
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with a gentle breeze of wind;
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I think that he cries Helm a Lee ,
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but 'tis a Dream I find.
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South-East by East, methinks he cries,
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and stiddy, stiddy now;
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And now the Rudder silent lies
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that us'd the Sea to Plough;
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Tom Tinker 's Course I see him sail,
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i'm loaded then with joy;
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But when I wake my senses fail,
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and all my hopes destroy.
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I often wish for some small Boat,
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that I might put to Sea;
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That I unto my fate might float,
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and on the Billows play
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Till they had toss'd me out of sight,
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and all my sorrows drown'd:
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But 'tis in vain, for such delight
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is no where to be found.
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S Ometimes I covet for to be
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some greazy Sea-Cooks Mate,
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And rub my fingers presently
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with Tar and Pitch; in state
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Thus I to Wapping haste away,
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to Redriff and Blackwall ;
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But ne'r a Ship that puts to Sea
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will Will y's Darling call.
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Then strait I to the Exchange do fly,
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and court the Captains there,
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But they're so huffish and so high,
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they ne'r regard my Prayer.
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Now whither shall I run or go
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to find a brackish Grave?
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I'le have no Tomb on Earth below,
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the Sea shall my Body have.
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My Kid and I alike shall dye,
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The curled waves will be
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The only Grave for him and I
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that I desire to see:
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The storms shall toss us to and fro
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upon his sandy shore,
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Our Lodgings we'l take up below,
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for there is room good store.
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Though he to me did prove unkind,
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i'le not be so to him;
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I value not the Tide nor Wind,
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nor where I sink or swim:
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Let Neptune 's frothy bounds still swell,
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and mount up to the Sky,
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Or let them throw me down to Hell,
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so I may in pickle lye
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The Watry Region's my delight
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since there he lost his life,
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I'le be his Comrade soon this night,
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since I cannot be his Wife.
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I'le float from place to place each hour
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until I find him out;
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No fish my body shall devour,
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but they shall cast me out.
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And when I find my Lover out,
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I softly will complain,
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And ask him why he went without
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his pretty little Swain,
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The little Kid that came with me;
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and if he silent stands,
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I'le give him gentle Kisses three,
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and wring him by the hands.
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