The Bristol Tragedy:
OR, THE
Unfortunate Bride and Bridegroom,
He being Prest away on the Day of Marriage, and
loosing his Life in the late Expedition, with Grief and Sorrow
it broke the Heart of this young Bride, to the unspeakable
Grief of her Friends and Relations.
To the Tune of, The Languishing Swain, etc.
Licensed according to Order.
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ATtend you Loyal Lovers all,
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A sad Relation here I shall
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Give of two faithful Lovers dear,
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To whom the Fates was most severe.
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These Lovers did in Bristow live,
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Of whom a just Account I'll give;
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The one a Merchant's Daughter fair,
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Whose Beauty shin'd beyond compare.
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And he wealthy Squire's Son,
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Who had her Love and Favour won;
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Likewise their Friends were satisfi'd,
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In making her his lawful Bride.
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The Day appointed came at last,
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That they were to be linked fast,
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In wedlock Bonds of golden Love,
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Which none but Death could e'er remove.
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The Morning did with joy appear,
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But Sorrow soon brought up the Rear,
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Fortune was most unkind that day,
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He for the Seas was Prest away.
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No kind of Favour they'd afford,
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But hurry'd him straitways on board,
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And would not suffer him to send,
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One Letter to his dearest Friend.
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But at the length they came to know,
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That he was gone to face the Foe;
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And then this fair young charming Bride,
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She sight, she wrung her hands and cry'd,
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What could they take my Dear away?
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And just upon my Wedding-day;
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Was e'er such Cruelty before?
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Farewel, I ne'er shall see thee more.
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Continually she did lament,
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Her Nights and Days in Tears was spent,
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No words of Comfort would she hear,
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From Friends or loving Parents dear.
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With bitter Sobs, she cry'd, I know
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That he can never undergo
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The Hardships of the roaring Seas,
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Who all his Life-time liv'd at Ease.
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Now if my dearest Love shall Dye,
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His Blood will on their Conscience lye,
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Who did by Violence alone,
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Compel my Dearest from his own.
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My Thoughts are in Confusion hurll'd,
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Farewel the Pleasures of the World,
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In Tears of Sorrow will I Mourn,
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Until his happy safe Return.
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At length a fatal Letter came,
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To this young Bride and Bristow Dame;
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So soon as she the Lines beheld,
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She found that he near France was kill'd.
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Her Colour then did come and go,
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Like Fountains her fair Eyes did flow;
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Her Parents they did likewise weep,
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For Life in her they could not keep.
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Her fainting Fits increas'd so fast,
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That with a dying Groan at last,
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No other Words than these she spoke,
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Farewel, farewel, my Heart is broke.
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Her Friends and Parents did lament,
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With Sighs and Tears of Discontent,
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As having lost their Darling dear,
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Their only Joy and Comfort here.
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