ARTHUR'S-SEAT
Shall be my BED, etc.
OR,
LOVE IN DESPAIR
A New Song much in Request,
Sung with own proper Tune.
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COme lay me soft, and draw me near,
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and lay thy white hand over me,
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For I am starving in the cold,
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and thou art bound to cover me.
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O! cover me in my Distress,
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and help me in my Miserie,
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For I do wake when I should sleep,
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all for the love of my Dearie.
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My Rents they are but very small
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for to maintain my Love withall;
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But with my Labour and my Pain,
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I will maintain my Love with them.
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O Arthur's Seat shall be my Bed,
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and the Sheets shall never be fil'd for me
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St. Anthonys well shall be my Drink,
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since my true Love's forsaken me.
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Should I be bound that may go free?
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should I Love them that Loves not me?
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I'le rather travel into Spain,
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where I'le get love for love again.
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And I'le cast off my Robs of Black,
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and will put on the Robs of Blue?
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And I will to some other Land,
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till I see my Love will on me rue.
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It's not the Cold that makes me cry,
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nor is't the Weet that wearies me?
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Nor is't the Frost that freezes fell:
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but I love a Lad, and I dare not tell.
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O Faith is gone, and Truth is past:
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and my true Love's forsaken me,
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If all be true that I hear say,
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I'le mourn until the day I die.
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Oh! if I had ne're been born,
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than to have dy'd when I was young,
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Then I had never wet my Cheeks,
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for the Love of any Womans Son.
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Oh, oh! if my young Babe were born,
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and set upon the Nurses Knee,
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And I my self were dead and gone,
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for a Maid again I'le never be.
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Martinmass wind when wilt thou blow,
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and blow the green leafs off the Tree,
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O! gentle Death when wilt thou come;
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for of my Life I am wearie.
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