THE Young-Womans Answer TO Her Former Sweet-Heart On board one of His Majesty's Ships, who complains of her Ʋnkindness.
Tune of,
I lov'd you dearly, &c.
IN e'ery street I hear 'em sing
My Love's
Complaint, who serv'd the
King:
I went with him to the
Boy it'h'
Nore,
And could a gone all the World o're.
He says my Love appeared true,
I do declare it was to too;
And let his
love be ne're so great,
Mine was as much, tho' unfortunate,
A Golden Chain I had of him,
Which I
will freely return again;
As for my sighing when we did part,
'Twas from the bottom of my heart.
Then both of us did straight agree,
At his return Married to be;
As for his
letters he sent to
Town,
I do
declare I ne're had one.
But now I find it (tho' too late)
My
love complains of his hard Fate;
But 'tis my Father's Fault indeed.
He often said that you were Dead.
Those
letters that you sent to me,
My Father would not
let me see;
But always said:
Child be at rest,
For thy Sweet-heart was slain at Brest.
Then he perswaded me to wed
To a rich
old Man that's almost dead:
It's true I'm Married, and am a wife,
I wish I'd liv'd single
all my life.
I always
lov'd a Seaman brave,
And once I was in hopes to have
Him which I now ne're expect to see;
You Maidens
all then pity me.
While we are young and once in
love,
It
looks like blessings from above;
Yet our Friends oftentimes
will make
Us break those Vows for Riches sake.
And as for
Gold and Silver too,
I freely curse it as
well as you;
For if that had not caus'd this strife,
Then you and I had been Man and Wife.
Altho' we both are crost in
love,
Your
Resolution I'd have ye move;
Since now you see the fault's not mine,
Think not so hard on woman-kind.
Where one VVoman is false in
love;
A hundred Men they false do prove;
Tho' I lay not this charge to you,
Nor I hope you don't think me untrue.
Return, return, I beg my Dear,
For here are thousand VVomen here,
That are more Beautiful than I,
Therefore ne're go where
Bullets fly.
'Twould be the comfort of my life.
To see you have a happy VVife,
Tho' I am crost, 'twill ease my pain,
To see you once return'd again.
Printed for Charles Barnet.