Loyal Constancy; Or, The Seaman's Love-Letter:  
Written by John Blay on Board the Henry and Elizabeth riding at Leghorn, to his Dear Mistress Mary Foart, now living near Wapping, exhorting her to continue in her wont love and constancy according to their mutual promises passed between them, in order to their happy Union and Marriage, as soon as he shall return from this Voyage to England.  

Tune of, Cloris full of harmless thoughts; Jenny Gin. The fair one let me in.  
 depiction of man and his beloved separated by a ship.  

TIll from Leghorn I do return,  
still! constant to me prove;  
Let none impart, or share thy heart,  
but only me thy love;  
Let no brisk Boy thy love enjoy,  
or rob me of my, treasure;  
But may we kiss enjoying bliss,  
possessed of earthly pleasure.   

Ah charming fair one of my heart,  
how wretched now am I;  
Since from thee I am forced to part,  
and leave felicity:  
All night I lie, I sigh and groan,  
still thinking of the bliss;  
We oft times have enjoyed alone,  
with smile and amorous kiss.   

When night grows dark. I steer my Bark,  
to loves long-wished for Port;  
But still I find the winds unkind,  
I cannot reach the Fort;  
Tempestuous waves my heart enslaves  
my troubled Bark does roll;  
Nothing I see, unless't be thee,  
can ease my troubled soul.   

With serious thoughts I spend my hours,  
still thinking of your charms,  
Till sleep my drowsy sense o'repowers,  
and brings thee to my arms;  
Where in a Dream I thee embrace,  
and think the world's my own,  
But when I wake, O then alas,  
my earthly joy is gone.   

With early look, when day appears,  
I rouse me up from sleep;  
I find my Pillow strewed with tears,  
your absence caused me weep:  
Thus never shall I be at ease,  
till like two Turtles we  
May still be Billing when we please,  
and live at liberty.   

Ah Marry Foart thou lovely maid,  
writ in my heart most dear;  
May storms and tempests me invade,  
when Mary is not there:  
Though London youths do seek the prize,  
to take and bore away;  
Yet she that's virtuous, chaste, and wise,  
will own her Love  
John Bay.    

Virtue the Reward of Constancy; Or, Mrs. Marry Foart's Love-Letter and Answer to her dear heart John Blay at Leghorn:  
Wherein she protests her constancy and happiness in the enjoyment of his love; which she writ to him in Verse, as his was to her: and showing the same to a Friend of hers for his approbation, he caused both the Letter and the Answer to be published. to vindicate the Maid's honour and constancy, which, some sly youngmen living near, had endeavoured to traduce, and by that means to break off the match, which they had designed otherways.  
To the same Tune.  
 depiction of winds blowing the man's ship towards his lover  

Her Answer.  
MY dear to thee i'll surely be  
as chaste as Ice or snow;  
I'll waste the nights in our delights,  
till Nilus' overflow:  
Let not Spain's beauty gain thy duty,  
nor win thee by her charms;  
But may I still, spite of all ill,  
embrace thee in my arms.  
In shady Grove made fit for love,  
I sit and waste my hours,  
Sigh and cry tears from my eye,  
distil like Pearly showers.  
Nor can I rest, till I am blest,  
with thee whom I esteem,  
Though fancy may my griefs betray,  
there's nothing in a Dream.   

Like one in chains, tortured with pains,  
I daily rave and tear,  
fearing some wave might be a Grave,  
for to enclose my Dear;  
Not all the Gods that rules the Seas,  
if I once see thy face,  
Shall me betray, or beat away  
my love from my embrace.   

May Boreas be once kind to me,  
fill every troubled Sail,  
May Merchants leap, and Seamen skip,  
since love does now prevail:  
May winds once bear to me my Dear,  
and fix me on thy breast,  
Then shall I be, enjoying thee,  
of happiness possessed.   

In sweet delights we'll spend the nights,  
no storms shall cause us fear;  
Locked in my arms, guarded from harms,  
I will secure my Dear.  
Then shall I surely be at ease,  
when like two Turtles we,  
May bill and kiss even when we please,  
enjoying liberty.   

Remember me my Dear John Blay,  
as I thee on the Shore,  
Let not Italian Dames betray,  
thy heart keep well in score.  
No London youths shall e'er persuade  
my love by false report;  
for thee i'll live or die a Maid,  
thy Dear heart  
Mary Fort.     

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-ball, in West-smithfield.