Love without Luck, Or The Maiden's Misfortune  
To the Tune of the new Celebrand.  

 

IN the sweet temperate Air  
of a May Morning,  
When Ver and Flora fair  
had been adorning  
The lovely Fields and Meads,  
Ualleyes and Mountains,  
Chéering the bubbling Brooks  
and streaming Fountains:  
When Younglings sport and play,  
(Aestiua's Holiday)  
As I walked on the way  
for recreation,  
Where each Lad with his Lass,  
Neatly trip on the grass,  
As they the Meadows pass,  
in lovely fashion.   

Now Groves and Copses  
loud Echoes are ringing,  
The Mavis Robin, and  
early Lark singing,  
Philomela chants her note  
jugg, jug, most sweetly,  
And the fair Bird of May  
Coo-koo discreetly,  
Each Bird did chirp and sing,  
To welcome in the Spring,  
With cheerful solacing,  
and fragrant Flowers  
All lovely to the eye,  
Smelling most curiously,  
In choice variety  
for Lady's Bowers.   
 

Singling myself alone  
for my contenting,  
I heard a Beauteous One  
sadly lamenting,  
Tears down her lovely cheeks  
from eyes distilling,  
Sighing; and cursed the Time,  
ere she so willing  
Had yielded foolishly,  
Up her virginity,  
And grown in misery,  
after despised  
Of him she held so dear,  
Who had plucked from her there,  
What she most deemed near  
and highly prized.   

Lands that are mortgaged  
may oft be redeemed,  
But Uirgin-Honor lost  
never esteemed:  
Were she the fairest One  
Nature ere framed,  
That matchless jewel gone  
and she defamed,  
In scorn it will be said,  
There goes one was a Maid,  
Yet hath the Wanton played,  
oh, this doth grieve me,  
Chiefly to think that he  
Should so inconstant be,  
Loving him faithfully,  
thus to deceive me▪    

The second part.  
To the same tune.  
 

With that again she wept,  
Her griefs renewing,  
Whereon to her I stepped,  
her feature viewing,  
Thinking some Angel bright  
in shape of woman,  
So dazzled had my sight;  
for I think no man  
Ere yet beheld with eye  
One more immortally,  
(For wit and modesty,  
grace, Art, and feature)  
Decked with deportments fair,  
And Beauties passing rare.  
Thus I began. Oh Fair  
Divinest creature,   

Tell me, where lives the Man  
could be so cruel,  
I'll right thee if I can  
for thy lost jewel,  
And force him marry Thee  
if thou desire it,  
That he so false could be,  
I do admire it.  
Then with tears in her eyes,  
Mournfully she replies,  
He's for some golden price,  
rashly is ventured:  
Else o'er the Seas is gone,  
With marquis Hambleton,  
And like a perjured one,  
left me distempered.   
 

But since the time that he,  
the Seas has taken:  
My friends despitefully,  
have me forsaken:  
Father, and Mother; All  
Brothers and Sisters,  
Lewd Strumpet do me call,  
and as Detesters  
They loath my company;  
I dare not come them nigh,  
But may curse till I die,  
all false Protesters.  
That seek their wills to have,  
And yet poor maids deceive,  
Then do no credit give  
unto such jesters.   

No marriage yet at home,  
would I accept on:  
Till at length over come,  
by this young Captain,  
Who had vowed earnestly  
he would me marry  
And his fair promises  
made me miscarry,  
For fearing of none ill  
I yielded to his will,  
Sorrow my heart do kill,  
being disdained.  
Let this my misery▪  
To all a warning be  
To keep their chastity  
pure and un 〈…〉.    
FINIS.   

Printed at London for L. G.