A SONG.  
As I walked by an Host— pi— tall, I heard an old Woman cry; If Jove would be so kind to me once more before I die, as let me to enjoy the Bliss which Nature hath designed: But alas! who will the Cause redress, of an old Woman poor and blind.  

II.  
Now I have been a Widow  
These five and forty years,  
Both night and day I beg and pray,  
With many a bitter tear,  
That Jove would be but pleased to grant,  
What Nature hath designed  
To cheer the Hearts of those in want,  
As old Women poor and blind.   

III.  
But why should I torment myself,  
For what I cannot gain,  
Since day nor night brings no delight.  
But misery and pain:  
Or why should I rejected be,  
Since none will be so kind  
As for to do a courtesy  
For an old Woman poor and blind.   

IV.  
A young man hearing her complain,  
Returned this reply,  
What will you give me, good Woman, said he,  
And I'll smuggle you handsomely;  
In troth kind Sir, nothing I have  
That I will thee deny,  
If thou wilt be but pleased to grant  
To do me this courtesy.   

V.  
Oh here is forty Shillings,  
That's all the Money I have,  
I am but poor, and have no more,  
To carry me to my Grave;  
And if thou wilt take it in part  
Of being to me kind,  
The Gods above be thy reward,  
For an old Woman poor and blind.    

LONDON, Printed for G. S. and are to be Sold at the Oxford-Arms in Warwick-lane. M DC LXXXV.