The Necessitated Virgin.
See here the Virgin in distress,
Complains Young-men are pittiless;
And she full fain would comfort find,
To ease her fad perplexed mind.
Tune of, VVhat shall I do, shall I dye for love, &c.
VVHat shall I do in this deep distress,
is there no help to be had?
Young-Men are grown so pittiless,
'twill make poor Maids run mad.
I am full fifteen Years of age,
my Fortune is so bad;
It puts me into such a Rage,
'twill make me run quite mad.
And had my Mothers fortune been like mine,
so grievous sad,
Then what a plight had she been in,
and like me, almost mad.
Had I a Sweet-heart at this time,
some thundring whisking Lad;
To ease me now I'm in the Prime, v
'twould save my running mad.
But I am quite Vnfortunate,
worse luck no Girl e're had;
Year after Year to pine and wait,
'twill surely make me mad.
Come Rich or Poor, come Old or Young,
and make my heart full glad;
For now my passion is so strong,
that I shall run stark mad.
TO see my Comrades Belly swell,
it makes my heart full sad,
And I I'm sure can kiss as well,
would this not make one mad.
Yea, some strange, old, and wrinkled things,
good fortune they have had;
Yea, taste from whence all comfort springs,
would this not make one mad?
And
Doll the dirty Dairy-Maid,
met with a brisk young Lad;
At pleasant sport with her he play'd,
else she had run quite mad.
And greesie
Sue, the Cook-wench too,
good fortune she hath had;
And
Jone hath Sweet-hearts one or two,
this, this will make me mad.
I'm fair enough in my conceit,
my Portion's not so bad;
But if I cannot quickly ha't,
i'm sure I shall run mad.
VVhen hand in hand I see a Girl
go mincing with her Lad;
Then from mine eye there drops a pearl,
and I am almost mad.
In Dreams sometimes my self I please,
and make my heart full glad;
I wake, see no such things as these,
this helps to make me mad.
Besides i'm jeer'd by every one,
'cause I no Love have had;
VVhich makes me sigh, lament and groan,
and makes me worse than mad.
I am almost possest with fears,
which makes me dull and sad;
That I shall lose my teaming years,
and then I shall run mad.
For in the world I think before
such ill luck none e're had;
Now my condition I deplore,
i'm ready to run mad.
Some gentle young-Man come away,
and ease my heart so sad;
I hourly for a Husband pray,
for fear I should go mad.
But if I cannot find relief
with some young lusty Lad,
I'le play the whore, and not the thief,
and save my running mad.
FINIS.
Printed for J. Deacon, at the Rain-Bow, in Holborn, near Davids-Inn.