The Forlorn LOVER:
DECLARING HOW
A LASS gave her LOVER three Slips for a Tester,
And Married another a Week before EASTER.
To a pleasant new Tune, etc.
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A Week before Easter,
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the days long and clear,
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So bright is the sun,
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and so cool is the air;
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I went into the forrest
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some flowers to find there,
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And the forrest would yield me no posies.
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The wheat and the rye,
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that groweth so green,
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The hedges and trees
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in their several coats;
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Small birds do sing
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But their changeable notes,
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in there groweth no strawberries or roses.
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I went into a meadow
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some time for 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 was 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 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 spoke of her ill;
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Many a one told me,
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what she did say,
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Yet I would hardly believe 'em.
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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 of my seat,
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and sat in the Porch;
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I found I should falsly
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be left in the lurch;
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And thought that my heart would have 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 laught in conceit,
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but my heart was full Low,
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To see how highly she was regarded.
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But when I saw my Love
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in the Church stand,
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Gold ring on her finger,
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well seal'd with a hand,
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He had so endu'd her
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with house and with land,
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That nothing but Death can them se-ver.
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But when the Bride-maidens
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were having her to bed,
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I stept in amongst them
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and kissed the Bride;
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And wished to have been
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laid by her side;
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And by that means I got me a favour.
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When she was laid in bed,
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(drest up in white)
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My eyes gusht 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 all good-night,
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And adieu my fair Sweeting forever.
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Oh! dig me a grave
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that is wide, large and deep,
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With a root at my head
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and another at my feet;
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There will I lye
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and take a long sleep,
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And so bid her farewel forever.
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She plithted her faith
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to be my fair Bride,
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And now at last hath
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me falsly depriv'd:
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I'll leave off my wrath,
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and wish God be my Guide,
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To save me from such another.
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I pitty her case,
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much more then my own,
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That she should imbrace,
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and joyn 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 sorrows I cannot smother.
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Though marriage hath bound her,
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she is much to blame,
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And though 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 put me to 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 yet i'll 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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alone in the Shades,
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Then to love such an Abuser.
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