EBBA 37029
British Library - Collection of 225 Ballads
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The Sorrowful Damsels Lamentation For Want of a Husband. This Maiden sure was in a Longing Temper, And Young men they are to blame that would venture, It is a pity any Damsel she Should Want the help of a Young man's Company. This Maidens Fortune proves so very Hard, That never a Young does her no more Regard: But Young men hereafter be sure to have a Care, They do not bring Young Maidens to Despair. To the Tune of, The Country Farmer.
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I am a poor maiden lives in great distress,
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I am sorely tormented now I do confess
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To see so many are marryed and I lye alone
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That I have so long tary[']d and still can get none
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I am ready to fret my self out of my wit
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To see so many have Husbands, and I a maid yet,
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Which makes me to fret & to grieve and to make moan
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To see so many get Husbands and I can get none.
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I shall be undone if some course be not tane
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I am so much troubled with lying alone
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To lye in my Bed and to toss as I do
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It will kill any maiden the truth it is so,
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I tumble, I pull and I hall and I tear,
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When I think of a Husband but I am never the near
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Which makes me to fret and to grieve & to make moan
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To see so, etc.
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When I see a young woman to give a young child the Breast
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I am mightily vexed and sorely opprest
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Because I can't have the Comfort of a man
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I am ready to go mad let me do what I can
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My maiden head louds me so sore I do say,
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I am in great danger I shall go astray
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Which makes me to fret and to grieve and to make moan
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To see so, etc.
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When I am amaking the Beds oh then I do swear
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I could wish that some prity Young man I had there
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That would humour my Fancy to give me Content
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That I might be marry'd I am so fully bent
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For never poor maiden had more need of a Cure
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To lye with a Husband oh that would be pure
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But still I do fret to grieve and make moan
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To see so many get Husbands and I can get none.
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There is now little pitty in Youngmen I find
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That a maiden should prove them to be so unkind
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To see other maidens that now are Wed
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What Comfort they have when with Husbands they're Sped
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While I do lye knawing the sheets all the night
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To think of the Comfort, I'de have if I might
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Which makes me to fret to grieve and make moan
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To see so many get Husbands and I can get none.
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Of all maidens in London my Luck is the Worst
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That I cannot get marry'd, sore I am Crost
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And so many Young men that in London there be
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And never a One do except now of me
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I think I was born in the Arse of the Moon
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That never a One will take me in my Bloom
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Which makes me to fret and to Cry I'm undone
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To see so, etc.
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My Longing will kill me I greatly do fear
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If I be not marry'd before the next year
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Therefore if some Young man will take pitty on me
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And to ease all my Grief and my great misery,
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Then I should be eas'd and clear out of Sorrow
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Tho' to have a Husband of my own that I need not to borrow
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But yet I do fret and grieve and make moan
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To see so, etc.
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There was never no maiden so sorely opprest
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For want of a Husband I take little Rest
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And yet there is no Young man that comes on this way
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That I can have his favour with me for to stay
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I fear Ile be glad for to mourn all my Life,
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Neither Rich man nor Poor man will make his Wife
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Which makes me to fret and grieve and make moan
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To see so, etc.
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And now I have told the best part of my mind
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I shall dye a Maiden Young men are so unkind
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It do's Kill my heart that 'its Ready to brake
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When I see so many Young men to walk in the streets
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And never a One will take me to be Marry'd
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That I fear all the days of my Life I must tarry
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I have the worst luck now to lye all alone
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To see so many get Husbands and I can get none.
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Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in Pye-corner.
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