The Languishing Young Man:
OR,
The Love-sick Sail-man's sorrowful Lamentation for the Loss of his Beautiful
Maria, who left him languishing at the Point of Despair.
To the Tune of, If Love's a Sweet Passion, etc. Licens'd according to Order.
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I.
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OH! Why does my true Love so sadly disdain
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All the Gifts I afford her? Yet sure 'tis in vain
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For to offer her any; she's grown so unkind,
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That I'm least in her Fancy, and least in her Mind,
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Who before was her Darling, yet now she doth turn
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Her Affections to Hatred, which daily doth burn.
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II.
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Oh! Why do ye Fates me so hardly regard,
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That a Smile from my true Love I cannot be spar'd;
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But must like a poor languishing Swain be confin'd,
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For the loss of Maria, to torment my Mind
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With the fiery Arrows that Cupid doth send,
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And the cold leaden Comforts I have from my Friend.
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III.
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Look down, Oh, fair Venus, thou Goddess of Love,
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And send Cupid, that he may these Arrows remove,
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With which I this present am wounded so sore,
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For the fear I shall see dear Maria no more.
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I'm sinking, I'm swooning, I'm fainting away,
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For the loss of Maria: Oh! what shall I say?
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IV.
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Now the Sun-shine is past in the which I enjoy'd
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The sweet sight of Maria, both at home and abroad:
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But the Times are now changed; in Visions I find
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I have none but Denyings, which torment my Mind:
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For Maria is gone, and she cannot be found
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By poor Willy; which constantly is my Hearts Wound.
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V.
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Why was I so foolish, to settle my Love
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Or Affections on any? since falsely they prove?
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Above all, dear Maria, she has prov'd so untrue,
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That the Hour of Birth I am forced to rue.
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I'm wounded, I'm bleeding, I'm stuck to the Heart;
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Come, my dearest Maria, ease me of this smart.
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VI.
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Oh! What is the reason that you do me leave
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So dispairing of Comforts? I hardly believe
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That there ever was Swain that's more wounded than I,
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More unwilling to live, or more willing to die.
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O Maria! Maria! yield me some relief,
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And my Heart from this Thraldom thou then wilt reprieve.
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VII.
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Oh! Where are ye Gods that are wonted to be
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Great help unto Mortals? Why help ye not me,
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Against this fierce, fiery, powerful Dart,
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Which is shot by fierce Cupid into my poor Heart.
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Oh! help me! Oh! help me this moment! I cry,
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Or else, for the loss of Maria, I die.
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VIII.
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Come here, Oh! thou Charon, and make no delay,
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And bring here thy Ferry; I no longer can stay:
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Make haste with me over unto the dark Grove
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Of Elizia, that there I may mourn for my Love?
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Come quickly, come quickly; Why dost thou delay,
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Ev'ry Moment's a Year, that I here have to stay.
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IX.
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Now unto Maria all Joy may God send,
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Tho' she's brought me with sorrow unto my last end:
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Let her Joy be encreas'd, tho' she has bereav'd quite
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Me of Freedom, of Comfort, of Joy and Delight.
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Let me die now: Why should I my Sorrow relate?
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Since ill Fortune doth frown on my desperate state.
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X.
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Adieu to my Kinsfolks, and Parents most dear;
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Adieu to my Brother and Sister most near:
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Farewell you my Unkle, above all the rest,
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For of Parents and Kinsfolks, you have been the best
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Adieu to you all that my Moans now do hear,
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Be ye witness, I die for the loss of my Dear.
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