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EBBA 30544

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
The COUNTRY
Lawyers Maid JOAN,
Containing her Languishing Lamentation for want of a Man, which
at length she met with, being her Masters Man Mark.
Tune of Turn-Coat of the Times. Licensed according to Order.

YOu Batchelors all attend,
And stand a poor Maidens Friend,
My Sorrows to you I send,
In order to let you know
My passionate grief and woe,
And what I do undergo:In languishing sort I lye,
Here ready to sigh and dye,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
Theres no body knows but I.

Theres my young-Sister Kate,
Shes Marryd I hear of late
Unto a young Sparkish Mate;
But I poor honest Joan,
Must languish and lye alone,
Not any regards my moan:In sorrowful sort I cry,
Here ready with grief to dye,
What pain I endure for want of a Man,
Theres no body know but I.

I Think I have Beauty bright,
Young Batchelors to delight,
I wonder that they should slight
Such amorous Charms as mine,
And suffer me to repine,
My Life I shall soon resign:For languishing here I lye,
O ready this Day to dye,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
Theres no body knows but I.

I commonly do repair
To every Wake and Fair,
Drest up in my Powderd Hair,
My Beauty still to adorn,
And yet I am held in scorn,
Ah! would I had ner been born;
For languishing here I lye,
And ready this Day to dye,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
Theres no body knows but I.

Young Robin the Millers Son,
When he had my Favour won,
He did to another run;
Thus hurryd me to Despair,
As knowing the grief and care
Was greater than I could bear,
For languishing did I lye,
Ill tell ye dear Friends, for why?
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
Theres no body knows but I.

Were Husbands to be sold,
And I had as much bright Gold,
As ever my Lap could hold;
Nay, if I had ten times more,
Id freely part with that store,
I tell you, dear Friends, before
I languishing thus would lye,
A Husband, in troth, Id buy,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
Theres no body knows but I.

A Husband I dearly lack,
Tho he be a Collier black,
Or Pedlar with his Pack,
That travels the Nation wide,
Tis all one to me, she cryd,
Id willingly be a Bride:For languishing here I lye,
Nay ready this Day to dye,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
Theres no body knows but I.

At length came lusty Mark,
A Country Lawyers Clark,
And tickld her in the dark;
He litt on the very Vein,
The place of her grief and pain;
And causd her to laugh amain:
And merrily did reply,
O this is the Death Id dye,
What Grief I endurd for want of a Man,
Theres no body knew but I.


Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and J. Back.

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