The Scotch Lasses Constancy OR
Jenny's Lamentation for the loss of
Jockey: Who for her sake was Ʋnfortunately Kill'd by SAWNEY
in a Duel.
Being a most pleasant New Song,
to a New Tune.
TWa Bonny Lads were
Sawny and
Jockey,
But
Jockey was Low'd and
Sawny unlucky;
Yet
Sawny was tall, well-favour'd and witty,
But I's in my heart thought
Jockey more pritty:
For when he view'd me su'd me, woo'd me,
Never was Lad so like to undo me,
[...], and almost dy'd,
[...] would gang and come no mere to me.
Jockey would Love, but he would not marry,
[...] was afraid that I should miscarry;
[...] cunning tongue with Wit as so guilded,
[...] my heart would have yielded:
Daily he prest me, blest me, kist me,
Lost was the hour methought when he mist me
Crying denying, & sighing I woo'd him.
And mickle ado I had to get from him.
But unlucky fate robb'd me of my Jewel,
For
Sawney would make him fight in a Duel;
Then down in a dale with Cyprus surrounded,
Oh! there in my sight poor
Jockey was wounded;
But when he thrill'd him, fell'd him, kill'd him,
Who can express my grief that beheld him;
Raging I tore my hair to bind him,
And vowed and swore I'de ne'r stay behind him
I'se shriek'd and I'se cry'd, wa'es me so unhappy,
For I'se now have lost mine nene sweet
Jockey,
Sawny I curst and bid him to flye me,
I vow'd & I swore he should ne'r come nigh me:
But I'd spight him, hate him, fight him,
And never again would
Jenny like him:
Though he did sigh and almost dye,
He cry'd fie on me, cause I did slight him.
And from me I'se bid him straightway be ganging,
When with arms across, and head down hanging;
Whilst that my poor
Jockey was a dying,
He to the VVoods then departed sighing:
And his breath wanted, panted, fainted,
VVhilst that for him many tears were not scanted:
I'se beat my breast, and my grief expressed,
Wae's me that Death my joy had suppressed.
At which my
Jockey a little reviving,
And with his death as it were he lay then striving,
Open'd his eyes and looked upon me:
And faintly sigh'd, Ah! Death has undone me:
Jenny my Hony, I'se must part from thee,
But when I'm dead, sure there's none will wrong thee,
I did love thee, and that did move me,
To Fight, that so a man I'se might prove me.
But ah cruel Fate to death I am wounded,
Oh! and with that again he sounded;
Whilst for to dress his wound I apply'd me,
But wae alas his life was deny'd me,
Death had appaul'd him, gaul'd him, thrall'd him,
So that he dy'd with grief I beheld him;
And left poor
Jenny all a mourning,
And cruel
Sawny cursing and scorning.
From
Jockies cold Lips I often stole kisses,
The which whilst he lived were still my blisses:
A thousand times I did sob, sigh it;
And mickle ado I'se had to be quiet:
For as I ey'd him, spy'd him, ply'd him,
Never a thought could then pass beside him:
I'se bann the Fates that Life denying,
Had robb'd me of
Jockey, and long I sat sighing.
Till I'se at last with Cyprus crown'd him,
And with my Tears; I'se almost had drown'd him
The Turtles about us then came flying,
And mourning coo'd to seem a sighing:
I'se view'd him, ru'd him, with Flowers strew'd him
And with my love to the last persu'd him:
Resolving that I'se not stay behind him,
But sighing, do, and seek for to find him.
FINIS,
Printed for P. Brooksby in Pyecorner.