THE TRAPPAND VIRGIN
Or good Advice to Maidens, that they may not be drawn into Priminaryes by the specious
Pretences of their seeming Amorist's, who having once obtained their Wills, leave &
forsake their betray'd Mistresses.
Take my Advice while you are free,
And Young-Men do not trust,
They promise fare as fare can be,
But mean what is unjust.
Tune, When busie Fame.
|
COme mourn with me you Ladies all,
|
whom Young men have betrayed,
|
I was belov'd of great and small,
|
and thought a virtuous Maid:
|
At length a Young-Man to me came
|
and he did me much wrong,
|
For he betray'd a harmless Maid
|
with his deludeing Tongue.
|
Such vows and Protestations he
|
did to me often use,
|
With sighs, and Sobs that pittyed me,
|
so that I could not chuse
|
But condescend to his desire,
|
by which I me ruin'd quite,
|
In a haples hour he crop't the Flower
|
wherein I took delight.
|
My Virgins Name I must disown.
|
which grieves me to the Heart,
|
And since my Maiden-head is flown
|
I feele such deadly smart,
|
That makes me oft desire to dye
|
to be freed from that shame,
|
All will bestow on me I know
|
whoever hear the same.
|
But this may somewhat me excuse,
|
which brings me some content,
|
Obstinately I did Refuse,
|
and would not give consent,
|
Till he did vow and swear to me
|
he would make me his Wife,
|
But now I find, he hath chang'd his mind,
|
I am weary of my life.
|
ANd he from me is fled and gone
|
a false and perjur'd wretch,
|
Whilst by myself I make my moan,
|
and many a sigh do fetch,
|
But 'tis in vain I plainly find
|
since nothing will availe,
|
Why should I sigh away my life
|
unless I could prevail.
|
Take warning by me Maidens fair
|
and do not be Trappand,
|
To their pretences give no Ear,
|
for if they understand
|
You'r of a gentle Nature,
|
and begin to them to yield,
|
They I flatter on till you'r undone
|
and they have won the Field.
|
When they have got what they desire
|
their passion's at an End,
|
They'l coole that seeming fervent fire,
|
and you shall lose your Friend,
|
But keep them at a distance, and
|
you'l find them stoop amain,
|
So you may be from dangers free,
|
and need not to complain.
|
Such good Advice I once did want
|
which makes me now lament,
|
And when too late I think upon't
|
it breeds such discontent,
|
That I do wish ten thousand times
|
I had his Suit deny'd,
|
Who now I find doth prove unkind,
|
and me hath terrified.
|
False hearted men where e're you be
|
think not for to Escape,
|
For what you gain by Treachery
|
is next kinn to a Rape,
|
And will in time requited be
|
with some most just reward
|
Hereafter then prove honest Men,
|
and faithful to your word.
|
|
|
|
|
|