The Forsaken Lover:
OR,
The Dismal Overthrow of young Molly, who was got
with Child by Stout Robin, who afterwards Married to a Rich
Lady. Tune of Dry Bread shall be my Food.
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SEE how the Wheels of fickle Fortune,
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That turns round and Conquers me,
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Young Mens Love is at no certain,
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As by Experience you may see.
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I that was a Damsel well approved,
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of fine Wit and Quality,
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Wonder why was I beloved
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in all young Mens good Company.
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Robin was a Man so witty,
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that he made Tryals e'ery Day,
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Still fain he would be doing,
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but I often said him nay.
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With that he drew his Golden Rape[r]
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vowing for to end his Life,
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If I did not yield unto him,
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for to be his Wedded Wife.
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O hold your hand, sweet Robin,
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for I will become your Friend,
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Murder not your self by Stabing,
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by which you'll make a final end.
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All things for a Housewife I am fitting,
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besides I will frame myself unto
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Reading, Sowing, Spinning, Nitting,
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and suchwise many thus I can do.
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Besides I will make you rare Bonelaces,
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and draw Pictures to the very Life,
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And make soft Masks for Ladies Faces,
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why should I not be your Wife?
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I do still endeavour, and are willing,
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if it was then for my very Life,
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For to spend a Groat and save one Shilling,
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because I fain would be your Wife.
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But hearken now what happen'd after,
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before e'er three Months was come and gone,
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Robin match'd with a Rich Man's Daughter,
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then poor I was left alone.
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With that my Father frown'd, my Mother chides me,
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and all my Friends Laugh me to scorn,
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But alas what will betide me
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when I have a young Infant born?
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The very thoughts moves me with pity,
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which do's my heart then mollifie,
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For to be a Man so witty,
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and for which poor Soul I die.
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