The Distressed VIRGIN;  
Or, 
The false youngman, and the constant maid,  
The Qualities of them both displayed.   
To an excellent New Tune.  
 
 

A Thousand times my love commend,  
to him that hath my heart in hold,  
I took him for my dearest friend,  
his love I more esteemed than Gold:  
When first my eyes did see his face,  
and that my ear did hear his voice,  
His love I freely did embrace  
my heart told me he was my choice.   

O had he still continued true,  
and in perfection permanent,  
Had he performed what was due,  
then had I found true hearts content:  
But he regardless of his vow,  
which he to me did make before,  
Hath thus in sorrow left me now,  
my former follies to deplore   

Would I had never seen those eyes,  
that like attractive Adamants,  
Did my poor heart with love suprize,  
the power of love some enchants:  
I have no power to leave his love,  
though with stern hate he me pursue,  
To him I will most constant prove,  
though he be faithless and untrue.   

I put my finger in the bush,  
thinking the sweetest Rose to find,  
I pricked my finger to the bone,  
but yet I left the Rose behind:  
If Roses be such prickling flowers  
they must be gathered while they be green  
And shs that loves an unkind love,  
alas she rows against the stream,   

O would he but conceive a right,  
the grief that I for him sustain.  
He could not choose but change his spite,  
to faithful love and leave disdain:  
I love to have him still in place,  
his too much absence makes me mourn  
Yet he disdains to see my face,  
and holds my company in scorn.   

It grieves my heart full sore to think:  
that he whom I so dearly love,  
Should thus with me refuse to drink,  
yet can my passions ne'er remove,  
Though he I know could w●sh my Death  
so great is his inveterate hate,  
Yet could I sooner lose my breath.  
then see him wronged in name or state.   

Ill hap had I to come in place,  
where first I saw his tempting look,  
As soon as I beheld his face,  
I Cupid's Prisoner strait was took:  
And never since that fatal hour  
have I enjoyed a minute's rest,  
The thought of him is of such power,  
it never can forake my breast.   

Then was I struck with Cupid's dart,  
than was my fancy captivated,  
Then did I vow that still my heart,  
should rest with him though me he hated:  
Then did he make a show or love,  
which did much more my heart inflame,  
But now he doth perfidious prove,  
and gives me cause h●s love to blame.   
 
 

NAy more he made a vow to me,  
that I should be his wedded Wife,  
And he forsakes me now I see,  
which makes me weary of my life,  
I little thought what now I find,  
that youngmen could dissemble so  
Sure he is the falsest of his kind,  
ill hap had I to prove him so.   

Could any man be so hardhearted,  
to leave a harmless Maid in grief,  
From me all comfort clean is parted,  
unless his favour grant relief;  
He is the man that bred my pain  
he is the man whose love alone,  
Must be the means to cure my pain;  
or else my life will soon be gone.   

O faithless wretch consider well,  
that Heaven abhoreth perjury,  
Great torments are prepared in hell,  
for them that thus will swear and lie:  
O hadst thou never made a show,  
of love thou hadst excused thy blame,  
But thy false heart full well doth know,  
with oaths thy perjured tongue did frame.   

That obstacle that hinders me,  
is that which I suspect full sore,  
His fruit is on some other tree,  
and he is seduced by some whore;  
Or else he hath some other Lass,  
perhaps like me a harmless Maid,  
Whom he may bring to such a pass,  
as I am brought by Cupid's aid.   

O heavens forbid that any one,  
that bears an honest loving mind,  
Should thus have cause to grieve & mourn.  
at such a knave that shames his kind:  
But why should I as pasions move,  
with bitter words upon him rail,  
Whom I am ever bound to love,  
until my vital spirits fail.   

Sweet love forget my lavish tongue,  
if I offend in any sort,  
To recompense the for the wrong,  
i'll always give thee good report  
Although to me thou art unkind,  
who never gave thee any cause,  
Yet I still resolved in my mind,  
never to break Cupid's Laws.   

And if I never be thy Wife  
which is the thing I justly claim.  
I vow to lead a single life,  
and never think on lover's game:  
But why speak I of life when death,  
doth every minute claim his due,  
I cannot long detain my breath,  
having a lover so untrue.   

Let all true Lovers judge aright,  
in what a case poor soul am I,  
Come gentle death and work thy spite,  
for now I am prepared to die:  
O heavens forgive my love this wrong,  
done unto me a Maiden pure,  
Who for his sake must die e'er long,  
for long my life cannot endure    

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clerk. W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger.