The YOUNG-MANS Unfortunate Destiny. It being the True Lovers Lamentable Overthrow.
When they devise to Tyranize,
It often proveth true,
That in this Snare they do impair
Both Life and Fortune too.
To the Tune of,
The Doubting Virgin.
NEar a Pleasant flowing River,
there I with my Love did meet,
Where I often did endeavour,
with kind arguments so sweet;
As I tryed, she denied,
all that ever I could say,
Would not do it, now I rue it,
love will cast my Life away.
I in Love am now abused,
and requited with disdain,
True and Loyal, yet refused,
shure my heart will break with pain:
Here in anguish, do I languish,
being thus opprest with care,
Do not grieve me, Love, reprieve me,
why should I for thee dispair?
Well, I am resolv'd to wander,
and to finish out my days,
Though we parted are asunder,
love, I still will speak thy Praise;
Sure a sweeter fairer Creature,
nature never yet did frame,
Yet my jewel is so cruel,
I must now the Land refrain.
While he thus was discontented,
and perplexed in his mind,
Many Sighs and Tears was vented,
seeing she was so unkind:
To reject him, disrespect him,
now he well did understand,
He should never, gain her favour,
he resolv'd to leave the Land.
Love farewel, I now must leave thee,
and will cross the Ocean Main,
Nothing in the world doth grieve me,
but the thoughts of thy disdain:
Now we sever, surely never,
will I on a Beauty gaze,
As a Stranger, and a ranger,
will I finish out my days.
Then aboard a Ship he enter'd,
bidding now his Love adieu,
On the Ocean wide he ventur'd,
where much dangers did ensue;
When oppressed, and distressed,
on the mighty Ocean Sea,
He replyed, often cryed,
now my Love hath ruin'd me.
Had I but my dear enjoyed,
then were I'm happy State,
Now alas I am destroyed,
by the cruel hand of Fate;
I am wounded, and Surrounded,
with the thoughts of her disdain,
I desire to expire,
rather then to live in pain.
While he was his thoughts condoling,
thinking on his only dear,
They on mighty Waves was rowling.
'twixt the thoughts of hope and fear;
Then his trouble waxed double,
by the Rovers of the Sea,
They betray'd them, and convey'd them
e'ry man to Slavery.
Now his sorrows are increased,
none but by the Silent Grave
Can he hope to be released,
but to live and dye a Slave;
Never ceasing, but increasing,
in the anguish of his mind,
Woful greeting, and repeating,
I shall never comfort find.
At the length he was befriended
by the Fatal Stroak of death,
All his grief and sorrow ended,
when he did resign his breath;
When she heared, then she feared,
she had wrought his overthrow,
Then she Acted, like Distracted,
as her
Answer plain will show.
Printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-Spur-Street, without Newgate.