joan's sorrowful Lamentation to ROGER,  
Who she thought was going to leave her and Marry Kate; together with Roger's kind Answer, which gave her great satisfaction.  
Tune is, The Spinning-Wheel.  
Licenced according to Order.  
 

AS Joan was walking o'er the Green,  
she met young Roger brisk and gay,  
As soon as he by her was seen,  
with melting Eyes she thus did say:  
Why do you strive to baffle me,  
Am I not Flesh and Blood, said she.   

I heard of late, you Courted Kate,  
and vowed that she should be your Bride,  
Why do you serve me at this rate,  
my Flames I can no longer hide:  
〈◊〉 Twelvemonth you have courted me,  
〈…〉 and Blood, said she.   

I hear you gave her Cakes and Ale,  
with many other pleasant toys;  
While I my sorrows do bewail,  
as being robbed of all those joys:  
Come, Roger, this must never be,  
For I am flesh and blood, said she.   

You promised her a Wedding-Ring,  
nay gave her hugs and kisses store;  
Saying you had a better thing,  
but that you promised me before:  
I can't forget your Villainy,  
For I am flesh and blood, says she.   
 
 

I Was your Fellow-servant long,  
and loved you too it is well known;  
How can you then in Conscience wrong  
your dear entire sweetheart Joan?  
Have some regard to pity me,  
For I am flesh and blood, said she.   

When I fed you with Curds and Cream,  
and you did likewise kindness show:  
I then, alas, did little Dream  
that ever you'd a served me so:  
But now vouchsafe to pity me,  
For I am flesh and blood, said she.   

Last Easter you did swear and vow  
you'd prove to me an honest Man;  
I put this to your conscience now,  
deny it, Roger, if you can:  
Why are you then unkind to me,  
Am I not flesh and blood, says she.   

By Night I sigh, instead of sleep,  
my heart is so with grief oppressed,  
While you her company do keep,  
alas, it breaks me of my rest:  
Come, Roger, this must never be,  
For I am flesh and blood, said she.   

At length young Roger thus replied,  
I will be true to thee alone;  
And if I ever wed a Bride,  
it shall be thee my sweetheart Joan:  
Now dry up all thy tears, said he,  
For I love none alive but thee.   

My Dear, this is a false report,  
which some has raised to make thee grieve  
But I no other Lass did court,  
if that my word you will believe;  
Then dry up all thy tears, said he,  
For I love none alive but thee.   

It is not Kate that shall deprive  
my jewel of her constant Love:  
Nor ne'er another Lass alive,  
for I will ever constant prove:  
Appoint the Day, we'll Married be,  
For I love none alive but thee.   
FINIS.   

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