The COUNTRY Lawyers Maid JOAN, Containing her Languishing Lamentation for want of a Man, which at length she met with, being her Masters Man Mark.

Tune of Turn Coat of the Times.

Licensed according to Order.

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YOu Batchelors all attend,
And stand a poor Maidens Friend,
My Sorrows to you I send,
In order to let you know
My passionate grief and woe,
And what I do undergo:
In languishing sort I lye,
Here ready to sigh and dye,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
There's no body knows but I.
There's my young Sister Kate,
She's Marry'd I hear of late
Unto a young Sparkish Mate;
But I poor honest Joan,
Must languish and lye alone,
Not any regards my moan:
In sorrowful sort I cry,
Here ready with grief to dye,
What pain I endure for want of a Man,
There's no body knows but I.
I Think I have Beauty bright,
Young Batchelors to delight,
I wonder that they should slight
Such amorous Charms as mine,
And suffer me to repine,
My Life I shall soon resign:
For languishing here I lye,
O ready this Day to dye,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
There's no body knows but I.
I commonly do repair
To every Wake and Fair,
Drest up in my Powder'd Hair,
My Beauty still to adorn,
And yet I am held in scorn,
Ah! would I had ne'r been born,
For languishing here I lye,
And ready this Day to dye,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
There's no body knows but I.
Young Robin the Millers Son,
When he had my Favour won,
He did to another run;
Thus hurry'd me to Despair,
As knowing the gri [...]f and care
Was greater than I could bear,
For languishing did I lye,
I'll tell ye dear Friends, for why?
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
There's no body knows but I.
Were husbands to be sold,
And I had as much bright Gold,
As ever my Lap could hold;
Nay, if I had ten times more,
I'd freely part with that store,
I tell you dear Friends, before
I languishing thus would lye,
A husband, in troth, I'd buy,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
There's no body knows but I.
A Husband I dearly lack,
Tho' he be a Collier black,
Or Pedlar with his Pack,
That travels the Nation wide,
'Tis all one to me, she cry'd,
I'd willingly be a Bride:
For languishing here I lye,
Nay ready this Day to dye,
The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,
There's no body knows but I.
At length came lusty Mark,
A Country Lawyers Clark,
And tickl'd her in the dark;
He litt on the very Vein,
The place of her grief and pain,
And caus'd her to laugh amain &
And merrily did reply,
O this is the Death I'd dye,
What Grief I endur'd for want of a Man,
There's no body knew but I.

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and J. Back.

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