The COUNTRY Lawyer's Maid JOAN, Containing her Languishing Lamentation for want of a Man, which at length she met with, being her Master's Man Mark.  
Tune of Turn Coat of the Times.  
Licenced according to Order.  
 
 
 

YOu Bachelors all attend,  
And stand a poor Maiden's Friend,  
My Sorrows to you I send,  
In order to let you know  
My passionate grief and woe,  
And what I do undergo:  
In languishing sort I lie,  
Here ready to sigh and die,  

The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,  
There's no body knows but I    

There's my young Sister Kate,  
She's Married I hear of late  
Unto a young Sparkish Mate;  
But I poor honest Joan,  
Must languish and lie alone,  
Not any regards my moan:  
In sorrowful sort I cry,  
Here ready with grief to die,  

What pain I endure for want of a Man,  
There's no body knows but I    

I Think I have Beauty bright,  
Young Bachelors to delight,  
I wonder that they should slight  
Such amorous Charms as mine,  
And suffer me to repine,  
My Life I shall soon resign:  
For languishing here I lie,  
O ready this Day to die,  

The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,  
There's no body knows but I    

I commonly do repair  
To every Wake and Fair,  
Dressed up in my Powdered Hair,  
My Beauty still to adorn,  
And yet I am held in scorn,  
Ah! would I had ne'er been born,  
For languishing here I lie,  
And ready this Day to die,  

The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,  
There's no body knows but I    

Young Robin the Miller's Son,  
When he had my Favour won,  
He did to another run;  
Thus hurried me to Despair,  
As knowing the gri●f and care  
Was greater than I could bear,  
For languishing did I lie,  
I'll tell ye dear Friends, for why?  

The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,  
There's no body knows but I    

Were husbands to be sold,  
And I had as much bright Gold,  
As ever my Lap could hold;  
Nay, if I had ten times more,  
I'd freely part with that store,  
I tell you dear Friends, before  
I languishing thus would lie,  
A husband, in troth, I'd buy,  

The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,  
There's no body knows but I    

A Husband I dearly lack,  
Tho' he be a Collier black,  
Or Pedlar with his Pack,  
That travels the Nation wide,  
'Tis all one to me, she cried,  
I'd willingly be a Bride:  
For languishing here I lie,  
Nay ready this Day to die,  

The Grief I sustain, for want of a Man,  
There's no body knows but I    

At length came lusty Mark,  
A Country Lawyer's Clerk,  
And tickled her in the dark;  
He litt on the very Vein,  
The place of her grief and pain,  
And caused her to laugh amain &  
And merrily did reply,  
O this is the Death I'd die,  

What Grief I endured for want of a Man,  
There's no body knew but I     

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and J. Back.