The Perjured Sayler:
OR, THE
Fosraken Damsel.
GIVING
An ACCOUNT of a Young MAID at GREENWICH, who died for Love of a
SEAMAN, who after many Vows and Solemn Promises left her, so that with Grief
she broke her Heart.
To the Tune of, The Languishing Swain.
Licensed and Entred according to Order.
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COme listen while I do Relate,
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A Damsel's most Unhappy Fate;
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Caus'd by a most Uufaithful Love,
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Which did her utter Ruin prove:
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All Truth and upright Purity,
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Is turn'd to perfect Pergury:
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Nay, further still, declare I can,
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No Creature is so false as Man:
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As by this Ditty you shall find,
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And therefore listen now and mind,
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While I in brief do here express,
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A Sea-man's most Unfaithfulness:
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In Greenwich-Town he courted there,
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A Damsel beautiful and fair,
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And many Protestations made,
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Till he her yielding Heart betray'd:
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He vow'd her Chrams he did adore,
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And while he did remain on shore,
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It was his chief Delight to be
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In her sweet pleasant Company.
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The Damsel she was coy and strange,
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Declaring, That she would not change
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A single life, for that was best;
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So bid him set his heart at rest.
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Be not so cruel then, he cry'd,
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I can't, nor will not be deny'd;
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Therefore one word of comfort give;
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Without thy love I cannot live.
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Said she, Your words I can't believe,
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Young Men are Subject to deceive
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The Wise, Discreet, and Vertuous too;
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Therefore, said she, Farewel, ad[i]eu.
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Then did he smite upon his breast,
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Like one who was with Grief opprest,
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And cry'd, Return, return, my Dear,
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My final Res[o]l[u]tion hear:
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If I may not thy Charms enjoy,
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This life of mine I will destroy,
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Or else I'll quit my native Shore,
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And never see the Nation more.
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This word a deep Imperssion made
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Upon her Heart, she sighing said,
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If you are Loyal, Just, and True,
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I will no[t]strive to ruin you.
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He swore by all the Powers above
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That he'd be Loyal to his Love:
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At which she did a Promise make,
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Till death she'd never him forsake.
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This done, away to Sea he went,
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From whence he four kind Letters sent,
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In which he did his Love express,
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With all the Marks of Faithfulness.
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Yet when he came on shore again,
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Her Company he did refrain:
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When told of his Disloyalty,
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She sighing cry'd, It cannot be.
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Yet to her Grief she found it true:
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Then did she cry, I never knew,
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In all my days, so false a Wetch.
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With that, a double sigh she'd fetch.
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Her H[e]art with inward Grief was fill'd,
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Her Eyes soft pearlly Tears distil;
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Then ringing of her hands, she said,
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False Man, thou hast my Life betray'd:
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Is this the Wretch that vow'd and cry'd,
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If longer I his Suite deny'd,
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That his Destruction was at hand,
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He'd die, or leave his Native Land.
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Yet, this is he! yet let him know,
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He may not thus unpunisht go,
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When I am dead his Perjury
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May on his guilty Conscience lye.
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Soon after this her Heart-strings broke,
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And these was the last words she spoke:
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The Letters which he sent from Sea,
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Let them lye in the Grave with me.
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Having surrender'd up her breath
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Unto the fatal stroke of Death,
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Soft showers of melting Tears did fall
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To selebrate her Funeral.
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