The Distressed Damsels;
OR,
[A Do]lefull Ditty of a sorrowfull Assembly of young Maidens that were met together near Thames-street,
to bewail the Loss of their Loves which were lately pressd away to Sea.
To the Tune of an Orange. Licensed according to Order.
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MY sweet Sister Sue, ah! what I shado?
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I fain woud be married but know notl to who;
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[F]or why, I protest, the young Men are Prest,
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[A]nd my Sweetheart Robin is gone with the rest
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For a Seaman.
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Then Susan replyd theres many beside,
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That Fortune this Summer will surely divide;
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Each sudden surprize will cause Lasses cries,
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While Tears they do trickle like Rain from the Skies,
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For our Sweethearts,
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Theres Bess at the Bell you know her full well,
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A sorrowful story to me she did tell,
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That Thomas her Dear, was Prest she did hear,
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And then the poor Creature did tremble for fear
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He should leave her.
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In Thames-street of late, young pretty-facd Kate
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Had lost her dear sweeting, the Bricklayer her Mate;
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He was prest away but yet the next day
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They freed him, then Kate she did lovingly say.
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My sweet Johnny.
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In the open Street her John she did meet,
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And gave him a thousand soft Kisses so sweet,
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With stroaking his Chin, she welcomd him in,
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For Joy she was fit to leap out of her Skin,
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For her Johnny.
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Theres Doll at the Swan, her true Love is gone,
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Poor Heart she with sorrow doth sigh and take on;
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Yet all is in vain, he is gone to the Main,
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She fears that he neer will return home again,
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To embrace her.
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Theres Bridget & Joan tis very well known,
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Of Fourteen young Sweethearts they have not left one
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But all Prest on Board for to stand by the Sword,
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And this dos much Sorrow and Trouble afford,
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At the Parting.
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If Pressing goes on, there wont be a Man
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To please a young Lass, let her do what she can,
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For they will be scarce here in a short space,
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Then we shall be all in a sorrowful case,
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To be Married.
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Two Twelvemonths ago, sweet Sister you [know,]
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The Batchelors then we could bring to our [Bow,]
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Nay, at our Command, they stood Cap in [hand,]
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But now they grow scarcy all over the Land,
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We must prize them.
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Young Nancy and Ned last week they were [Wed,]
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And within an hour of going to Bed,
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Just in all their Pride he was Prest from he[r side,]
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Before he had dallied one Night with his Br[ide.]
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Want it Pitty?
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To leave his delight, and Beauty so bright,
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Before he had ever enjoyd her one Night;
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But what shall we say? he was Prest away,
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Now you that have Husbands adore them, I [pray]
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They are Jewels.
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Last year I declare, young Maids was cho[ice Ware,]
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But now they grow wonderful plenty I sw[ear,]
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All over the Town they walk up and down,
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I reckon you may have a Score for a Crow[n]
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By Midsummer.
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