THE
FORLORN LOVER;
DECLARING
How a LASS gave her LOVER three Slips for a Teaster,
And married another a Week before Easter.
To a pleasant new Tune.
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A Week before Easter,
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The days long and clear,
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So bright was the Sun,
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And so cool was the Air;
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I went to the Forest,
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Some Flowers to find there,
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And the Forest would yield me no Posies.
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The Wheat and the Rye,
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That do grow so green,
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The Hedges and Trees,
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In their several Coats;
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The small Birds do sing.
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In their changeable Notes,
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But their grows no Strawberries or Roses.
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I went to the Meadow,
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Some time there to spend,
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And to come back again,
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Did fully intend;
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But as I came back,
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I met with a Friend,
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And 'twas Love is the cause of my Mourning.
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I lov'd a fair Lady,
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This many a Day,
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And now to requite me,
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She's married away;
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Here she now hath left me,
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In Sorrow to stay,
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But now I begin to consider.
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I loved her dear,
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And I loved her well,
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I hated those People,
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That of her spoke ill,
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Many a one told me
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What she once did say,
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Yet I would then hardly believe them,
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But when I did hear.
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My Love was in the Church,
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I went out from my Seat,
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And sat in the Porch;
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I found I should surely,
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Be left in the Lurch,
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I thought that my Heart would be broken.
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But when I did see,
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My Love to the Church go,
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With all her Bride-Maidens,
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They made such a show;
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I laugh'd in Conceit,
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Though my heart was full low,
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To see how much she was regarded.
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But when I saw my Love
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Within the Church stand,
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Gold Ring on her Finger.
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Well sealed with a Hand;
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He had so endu'd her,
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With both House and Land,
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That nothing but Death could them sever.
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But when the Bride-Maidens,
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Had dress'd her for Bed,
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I stepp'd in amongst them,
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And kissed the Bride.
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And wish[']d to have been,
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Laid close by her Side,
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And by that Means I'd got the Favour.
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When she was laid in Bed,
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And dress'd all in White,
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My Eyes gush'd with Water,
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That drowned my Sight;
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I put off my Hat,
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And bid them good Night,
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And adieu my fair Sweetheart forever.
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Oh! dig me a Grave,
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That's wide, large and deep,
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With a Turf at my Head,
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And another at my Feet;
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And there will I lie,
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And take a long sleep,
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And bid the World adieu forever.
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She plighted her Faith,
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To be my fair Bride,
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And now at last she hath;
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Me falsely depriv'd;
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I'll leave of my Wrath;
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Good Fortune, be my Guide,
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And deliver me from such another.
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I pity her Case,
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Much more than my own,
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That she should embrace,
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And join Hands in one;
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Whilst I am her true Love.
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And daily doth groan,
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My great Sorrows I cannot smother.
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Tho' Marriage hath bound her,
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She is much to blame
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And tho' he hath found her,
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Her Husband I am;
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Hereafter 'twill wound her,
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That she do[t]h me shame,
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When Conscience shall be her Accuser.
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Two Husbands she hath,
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By this wild Miscarriage,
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The one by a contract,
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The other by Marriage;
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She doth her whole Family
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Grosly disparage,
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But I will not plot to misuse her.
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Beware all young Men,
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Of Arts, or of Trades.
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Chuse warily when,
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You meet with such Maids;
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You'd better live single,
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And well in the Shades,
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Than follow such an Abuser.
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