THE
Seamens Wives Vindication,
OR,
An Answer to the pretended Frolick, which was said to be by
them over a Bowl of PUNCH.
You writ that we drank Liquor free,
but for your Writing so;
You are to blame, nay, blush for shame,
Since it was nothing so.
To the Tune of, O so Ungrateful a Creature .
This may be Printed, R.P.
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W Hy does the Poets abuse us,
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we that are Seamens poor wives
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Have they not cause to excuse us,
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knowing our sorrowful lives?
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We are, alas! broken-hearted,
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as we can very well prove,
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What from our joys we are parted,
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those Loyal Husbands we love.
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You that declare we are jolly,
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do but abuse us we find,
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For we are most Melancholly,
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always tormented in mind:
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While that our Husbands are Sailing
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on the Tempestuous Seas,
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Here we are sighing, bewailing,
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nothing affordeth us ease.
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Here you have newly reported,
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that we are Girls of the Game,
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Who do delight to be Courted,
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are you not highly to blame?
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Saying we often are Merry,
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Punch is the Liquor we praise,
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Though we are known to be weary
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of these our sorrowful days.
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H Ow could you say there was many
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wives that did drink, rant, & sing;
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When I protest there's not any
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of us that practice this thing:
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Are we not forc'd to borrow,
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being left bare without Chink,
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'Tis in a Cup of cold sorrow,
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if we so often do Drink.
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Tho' we have little to nourish
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us while our Husbands are there,
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Merchants in London they flourish,
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through their industrious care:
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They are the stay of the Nation,
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men of a undaunted Renown,
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Why should a false accusation,
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run the poor Seamens Wives down?
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Saying, we follow'd our Liquor,
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with a great Gossiping Crew,
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Making our Tongues to run quicker
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then they had reason to do?
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Thus they would blast all our Glory,
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by the soft Wits of their Brains,
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He that invented that Story,
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was but a Fool for his pains.
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We are so far from such pleasure,
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making of jol[l]y Punch-Bowls,
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That we lament out of measure,
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every Woman condoles;
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When she in Bed should lye sleeping,
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if the high Winds they do roar,
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There she in sorrow is weeping,
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fearing to see him no more.
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They are to Dangers exposed,
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as we may very well guess,
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How can our Eye-lids be closed,
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in such a time of Distress?
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You that are free from that horror,
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having your Husbands secure,
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Little consider the horror,
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that we do dayly endure.
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Tho' there is joy in our Meeting,
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when they come safe from the Main,
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Yet 'tis a sorrowful Greeting,
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when we are parted again:
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Land-men in a full Fruition,
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feeds on the fat of the Land,
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This is a happy Condition,
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having all things at command.
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Tho' we have not such a plenty,
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yet I can very well prove,
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That there is not one in twenty,
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but who her Husbands doth love:
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You that have caus'd those Distractions
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writing a Story not true;
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May be asham'd of your Actions,
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and thus I bid you adieu.
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