The DAMOSELS Tragedy:
OR, True Love in Distress.
Being an account of a young Man, who Slighting a young
Maiden who had fix'd her love upon him, did thereby cause her to end her days in
Dispair by a dreadful Dose of Poyson.
To the Tune of, Charon, etc.
This may be Printed, R. P.
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YOu Loyal Lovers attend to my Ditty,
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which with a sorrowful heart I raise,
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'Tis of a Damsel, the more is the pitty,
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who with strong Poyson did end her days:
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Fair Elinor this Lass was named,
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John the cause of all her Woe,
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Sighing she said, tho' I here may be blamed,
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No body knows what I undergo!
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In my soft Breast is a secret Fire,
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which by the power of Love increas'd,
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Nothing but Death is my earnest desire,
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hoping there by I shall be releast:
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For I have lost my dearest Jewel,
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this to my Grief, alas! I know,
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My dearest Johnny, O why now so Cruel!
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you little think what I undergo.
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Here do I languish by you unlamented,
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now my poor innocent heart's betray'd,
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How can you any way here be contented,
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when you have ruin'd a harmless Maid?
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To me you have been most false-hearted,
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proving my final overthrow,
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Since from my presence you have departed,
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No body knows what I undergo!
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Every Vein in my heart now does tingle,
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while I in sorrow am left alone,
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Many sad Sighs with my Tears I mingle,
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while to the world here I make my moan:
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O that I might but once behold him,
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then would it Expiate my Woe,
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But in my arms I shall never infold him,
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No body knows what I undergo!
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down from her eyes the tears flow'd like a fountain
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being surrounded with Care and Grief,
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And tho' her sorrows she still was recanting,
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there was no Creature to yield Relief:
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Many a bitter Sigh she giving,
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while her poor heart was sunk full low,
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Said she, I here am a weary of Living,
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No body knows what I undergo.
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In her strange Fancy ran many a Notion,
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before the passion of Love was past,
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At length it was to prepare a sad Potion,
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the which bereav'd her of Life at last:
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Then as in Torments she lay Dying,
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being opprest with Grief and Woe,
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Wringing her hands like a Lover, and crying,
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No body knows what I undergo.
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Farewel, farewel, to my dearest for ever,
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I must submit to the hand of Fate,
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If that you here would afford me your pitty,
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now you would find it is far too late:
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Then with those words she did Expire,
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saying, to Dye I am afraid,
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All her Relations and Friends that was nigh her,
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wept for to hear the sad moan she made.
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Here have I given a perfect Relation,
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of a young Damsel that Dy'd you hear,
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Through her false Lovers Dissimulation,
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who can forbear now to shed a Tear?
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True Love abused it is such a Tryal,
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that there is few thorow it can Wade,
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Therefore O young-men, now learn to be Loyal,
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think of the Sorrowful End she made.
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