The Frantick Squire:
Whose passionate Love for a Young Lady caused his Distraction,
and since the restoration, of his Senses, he, with his own hand, writ this
Excellent new Ditty.
To the Tune of Let Mary live long.
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MElpomene now,
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assist a meek Lover,
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whose Tears will discover,
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How false to her Vow
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fair Cynthia hath been;
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While I sigh and complain
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She returnd me disdain,
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and would not expel
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My languishing passion,
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My languishing passion,
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but bid me farewel.
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From morning to night,
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I wanderd distracted
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ah! what have I acted
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Which made her delight
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to torture me so:Through the Shades did I post,
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Like a hovering Ghost
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bereaved of rest;
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With sad Lamentation,
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With sad Lamentation,
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in sorrows opprest.
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My Riches I left,
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with dear Habitation,
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each Friend and Relation,
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Of Comforts bereft,
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Distracted I run;
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That a place I might find
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That was free from mankind,
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(fair women I mean;)
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Whose conquering Beauty,
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Whose conquering Beauty,
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too late I have seen.
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My Pillow I made
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on banks of green Rushes,
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near Brambles and Bushes,
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Where weeping I laid
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my sorrowful Head;
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As I closed my Eyes,
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The kind watery Skies,
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would weep to behold
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A Lover exposed
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A Lover exposed
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to sorrow and cold.
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I valud not Crowns,
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with Kingdoms of Treasure,
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and wealth out of measure,
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Or fortifid Towns,
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for which they contend;
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There was Cynthia my Love,
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Which I valud above
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an Emperors Throne,
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Her amorous beauty,
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Her amorous beauty,
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was Riches alone.
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To Bedlam bound,
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at length they conveyd me,
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And there having laid me
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Upon the hard Ground,
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I took my repose;
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And my rich silken Bed,
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Where I once laid my Head,
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was turned to Straws;
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Of this my Distraction,
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Of this my Distraction,
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was Cynthia the Cause?
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My Senses once more,
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the hand of kind Heaven,
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in pity hath given,
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And now Ill adore
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no woman alive:
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Since my Heart is at ease,
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Let em frown if they please
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I scorn their disdain,
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They never shall make me,
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They never shall make me,
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a Captive again.
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