The Distracted SAILOR.
TO THE
Tune of, What is greater Joy, etc.
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OH how pleasant are young Lovers,
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When their Courtship first begin,
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And their Faces oft discovers,
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the great Pleasures they are in;
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When one seems to like the other,
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hand in hand these Lovers move,
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What sweet Kisses they do smoother,
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and they prattle Tales of Love:
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Just so Bill the Sailor courted,
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Molly, and she was as kind,
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For they oft had kiss'd and sported,
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and both perswaded were in mind,
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She consented for to have him,
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he made Vows to her again,
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He would wed, if she'd not leave him,
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when he did return from Spain.
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Then a Piece of Gold was broken,
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and each other took a part,
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And these Words by her was spoken,
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Billy thou hast won my Heart,
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May the Heavens bless you thither,
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and your safe return again,
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Molly's your's alone for ever,
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when you do return from Spain-
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Arm in arm thy kiss'd each other,
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and repeated vows did make,
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Ever to love one another,
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but, said Bill, my heart does ake,
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Least in absence you should leave me,
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then my heart would burst in twain.
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Curse on Moll, if i deceive thee,
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but stay till thou com'st from Spain.
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Bill a golden Locket gave her,
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and begg'd of her for to be true,
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Moll reply'd, As I'm a Sinner,
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I will ne'er be false to you,
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Then they parted with Eyes weping,
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and he sail'd away for Spain,
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For two Years he has been missing,
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but is now return'd again.
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Several Letters he had sent her,
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from Portugal and Spanish Shoar,
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With tokens hoping wou'd content her,
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till to England he came o're,
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But no Answer he received,
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till with Admiral Leak he came,
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Then his Heart was sorely grieved,
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O that i had staid in Spain.
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For he found his Sweet heart marry'd,
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and he curst false Lovers all,
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Since his Molly now was carried,
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by her Husband to Black Wall,
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He cried out then in vexation,
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Now some Newfound Land I'll find,
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Where wild Beasts have more Compassion,
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than deluding Woman kind,
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But alas he's sore tormented,
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and cries out, I am undone;
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For my Soul is discontented,
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and I shall distracted run,
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Molly's false, and has deceiv'd me,
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O ye Furies why ye stay:
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Of my Torments soon relieve me;
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take my wretched Life away.
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Now he rends his Cloths asunder,
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and into Distraction run,
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In Bedlam to all Peoples wonder,
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this distracted Sailor's gone,
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There in Links of Iron chained,
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and in Straw alone does lye,
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Against Molly he exclaimed,
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for her wretched Perjury.
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Day and Night in Chains he rattles,
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as if Bedlam he'd pull down,
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Come my Sailors, think of Battles,
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and of storming Spanish Town,
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Holo, you Sir Bethlem Porter,
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bring false Molly here again,
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I will ram her in a Morter,
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and will shoot her into Spain.
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