JOCKEY'S Jealousie: OR, His Rival chiefly Regarded by his Beloved Moggy.
To an excellent New Tune. Licensed according to Order.
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I.
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I saw the Lass whom dear I lov'd
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long sighing and complaining,
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While me she slights and disapproves,
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another entertaining:
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Her hand and lips to him was free,
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no Favour she'd refuse him;
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Judge how unkind she was to me,
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while she thus kindly us'd him.
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II.
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His Hand her Milk-white Bubbies prest,
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a bliss worth King's desiring;
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A Thousand times her Cheeks he kiss'd,
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her snowy Mounts admiring;
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Then pleas'd to be his Charming Fair,
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she to such Passion mov'd him,
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She clapp'd his Cheeks, and curl'd his Hair,
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to shew she well approv'd him.
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III.
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Ah cruel Moggy! then I cry'd,
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will not my Passion move thee?
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And if my Suit must be deny'd
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still give me leave to love thee,
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And then frown on, and still be Coy,
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your Constant Swain despising;
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It is but just you should destroy
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what is not worth the prizing.
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IV.
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Thy charming Beauty do's appear
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like Phoebus in her Glory,
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Thy Voice is Musick to my Ear,
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at e'ery pleasant Story;
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I evermore did take thy Part,
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and all thy wrongs have righted;
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Yet now another has thy Heart,
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while I thy Love am slighted.
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V.
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The killing Torment which I feel
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is far beyond expressing;
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First you my yielding Heart did steal,
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and then deny the Blessing;
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So that I find unto my Cost
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no Creature more deceitfull;
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He that loves best must suffer most,
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because you are ungratefull.
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VI.
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Your Heart as hard as Marble grows,
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while you Embrace a Stranger;
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My Life, and Fortune you expose
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unto the greatest Danger;
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I strive to check the killing Pain,
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and all my Passion smother,
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But yet I find it is in vain,
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while Moggy loves another.
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VII.
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Unto the World I do declare
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I'd love her, and defend her,
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Was she but half so kind as fair
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to Jockey her pretender,
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These Arms of mine should her enfold,
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no one shall ne'er annoy her;
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She's more to me than Crowns of Gold,
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if that I could Enjoy her.
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VIII.
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Moggy regard my wretched State,
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and hear my Love sick Ditty,
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Return, before it is too late,
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and let me find thy pity;
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Now change a Rival for a Love,
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which never will deceive thee,
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But evermore will Loyal prove,
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and in my Arms receive thee.
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IX.
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But if you still will Tyrannize,
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and not regard you Duty,
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When I shall fall a Sacrafice
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unto your killing Beauty,
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Then will your Sighs be all in vain,
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when I in Grave lye sleeping,
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You cannot call me back again,
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dear Moggy, then with weeping.
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FINIS.
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