The Frantic LOVER: Or, The Wand'ring Youngman.  

With Grief and Care he is oppressed,  
no Comfort can he find;  
In Nights he is disturbed of Rest,  
Caused by his Love unkind.   
To an Excellent New Playhouse Tune.  

This may be Printed,  
R. P.   
 


YOu are so fair and cruel too.  
I am amazed what I shall do  
to purchase my desire;  
Sometimes your eyes doth me invite.  
But when I enter you kill me quite,  
and the more increase my fire.   

Long I have loved▪ and am abused,  
And when I offer, I am refused,  
can any suffer more?  
Be coy be cruel, do your worst  
Though for your sake I am accursed,  
I must and will adore.   

Was you as kind, as sweet and fair,  
No creature could with thee compare,  
to love I am inclined;  
But yet I understand and see.  
That you're resolved to torture me,  
O are you not unkind?   

Can you forget the vow you made,  
When as in solemn sort you said,  
I was your only joy:  
Yet now you will no favour show,  
But prove my final overthrow,  
and would my life destroy.   

Sometimes in dreams I do behold  
Your tresses like fair threads of gold,  
likewise your beauty bright;  
But when I waken from my rest,  
And find that I am dispossessed,  
it proves my ruin quite.   

When first I did thy beauty see,  
O then thou didst appear to be  
an Angel in my ' eye:  
Like lambs together we did play,  
But now thine heart is drawn away  
tell me the reason why?   

Was I not only just and true,  
Pray let me here be tried by you,  
than what may be the▪ 'cause  
That you unworthily forsake  
Your love and like a tyrant break,  
the bonds of Cupid's laws.   

What grief of heart do I endure?  
'Tis the alone can kill or cure,  
send me one gentle smile;  
Or else I through the world will range,  
For why my Love can never change,  
O do not me revile.   

For sure I am▪ my Love is true,  
Where e'er I range i'll honour you▪  
in sounding forth thy praise;  
If I may not enjoy the Bliss,  
Bestow on me a pa●ting kiss,  
I'll wander on ●… my days.    

He● ANSWER.  

AM I so fair and cruel too,  
As has reported been by you?  
'tis faulse, pray don't revile:  
In one you seem to flatter me,  
Then charge me with much cruelty,  
where is your love the while.   

You tell me that you loved long.  
And through me have received wrong  
pray is this false or true?  
When did the darts of my disdain,  
Give any reason to complain?  
I will be judged by you.   

When first to me you did make Suit,  
If then I held you in dispute,  
was this disloyalty?  
I must confess it would be brave,  
If young men could but ask and have,  
maids soon would slighted be.   

'Tis not the mode for maids to woo,  
Yet when we find Men just and true,  
then, than we often yield:  
This is no more than modesty,  
But he that would hade more of me,  
shall never win the field.   

But if thy Heart so Loyal be,  
As not to fancy none but me,  
in all the world beside:  
Then I will willingly comply,  
In loyal Love to live and die  
whatever may betid.   

I'll make it all my study still,  
To be obedient to thy will,  
true blessings to restore:  
Here in my arms I'll the enfold,  
And prise the more than all the Gold,  
on the rich Indian Shore.   

The moan you made my heart did move,  
Thou shalt not wander from thy Love,  
whom you so much adore:  
And therefore now no more repine,  
Take Hand and Heart, I will be thine,  
what canst thou wish for more?    
FINIS.   

Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street, without Newgate.