LOVE is the Cause of my MOURNING, OR, The Despairing LOVER.  
Sung with its own proper Tune.  

THe Week before Easter the day being fair,  
The Sun shining bright cold frost in the Air,  
I did me to the Orchard some flowers to pull there  
but Flora could yield me no pleasures.   

The hills being covered with Midsummers' Clouds  
The white and the red did spring from the Rock,  
The Birds they were tuning their musical Notes  
there was neither Cowslips nor Roses.   

I had not been in this Wood half an hour spent,  
When for to turn back again was my intent,  
I heard a young Man who sore did lament;  
for love was the cause of his mourning   

I loved a Lass this many a day,  
And for to requited me she is Married away,  
With Sighing and Sobing Lamenting for ay,  
which was the cause of his mourning.   

Her Face was so fair I loved her well,  
〈◊〉 hated all those that wished her evil,  
〈◊〉 ●hey said of my suit I would never prevail;  
but yet I would never believe them.   

Her Face was so fair my Joy to behold,  
Her ●ove I esteemed more dearer than Gold;  
For ●●nce she had my heart in her hold,  
bu● yet with disdain she rewards me.   

Wh●t that I did see my Love to the Kirk go  
With ●ll her fair maids she had a fair show,  
My Heart was so grieved I mourned for woe  
to seem so lowly regarded.   

When that I did hear the Clerk publicly cry,  
Is there any contrary, its time to draw nigh,  
I thought in my mid good reason had I,  
but yet it was best to conceal it.   

When that I did see my Love join Hand in Hand  
With Rings on her Finger to seal up that band,  
Then I was infested in goods, ge●r and land,  
there was nothing but death could separat them.   

When that I did see my Love in her Bed right,  
My Eyes gushed out of Water & blinded my Sight  
I took off my Hat and bid her good night,  
pox take her for she will not leave him.   
FINIS.