Cupid's Masterpiece: OR, Long Wished for Comes at Last: Or, The happy Meeting of William and Mary.  

A pretty Damsel of Sixteen 'tis said,  
Was Courted; but of Love she was afraid:  
She slights sweet William (so she called his Name)  
He took her first Repulse; then she with shame,  
Laments her scornful Folly: Now she Loves,  
And languishes with grief, till Cupid moves  
Her William once again for to be kind;  
Which soon he did perform: Now both are joined  
In Love's strict Mutual Bands, and Married,  
Let none, though once denied, in Love despair.   
Tune of, Caelia's my Foe.  
 
 

GOd Cupid's unkind  
Since my Soul he confined,  
For to Love  
one doth prove  
So unconstant in Mind:  
He has wounded my heart  
With an amorous Dart:  
But my Dear  
will not hear,  
Though I tell him my smart.   

Once 'twas he did smile,  
Which my Heart did beguile;  
But then  
all young Men  
I did scorn for a while:  
But my Mind's altered now,  
And by Cupid I vow,  
I do with  
him to Kiss,  
If I could but tell how.   

What a madness it is  
To refuse proffered Bliss:  
'Tis a grace  
to Embrace,  
When kind Love bids us Kiss.  
My Desires are too late  
And I curse my hard Fate,  
Who first did  
me forbid.  
For to make him my Mate   
 
 
 

SWeet William was he  
Who at first tempted me:  
His Name  
I can't blame,  
Though so cruel he be:  
But now I do fear,  
My Complaints he won't hear,  
Though I'm crying,  
and dying,  
Each Hour i'th' Year.   

But if yet I could guests  
Any Hopes of Redress,  
I would pray  
Night and Day,  
For a better Success,  
If my Love I make known,  
And he should it dis-own,  
Then with Grief  
past Relief,  
I were ever undone,   

So sweet is his Voice,  
That it makes me rejoice  
For to hear;  
him I fear,  
Will not make me his Choice.  
He's so proper and tall,  
And so handsome withal,  
That his sight  
does delight,  
And my Senses enthral.   

When my Billy doth sing,  
He doth make the Groves ring;  
'Twould invite  
to delight,  
Each sensible thing:  
Though my words are in vain,  
Yet till Death I'll remain  
His own,  
though ne'er known  
To be wed by my Swain.   

Thus with Sighs she did End:  
But kind Love was her Friend.  
Now at last,  
he made haste,  
And his Bow he did bend:  
He pierced William's Breast,  
That he could take no rest;  
And Love  
did him move,  
Which he quickly expressed.   

To the Damsel he goes  
Who did languish in woes,  
And with Arms  
full of Charms  
He Embraces his Spouse.  
He did her take Heart:  
For God Cupid by Art,  
Did enjoin me,  
and confine me,  
Never from you to part.   

This made her Heart glad,  
Which before was so sad:  
They were Married,  
and ne'er tarried,  
Such Desires they had  
Let none then despair,  
Though tormented they are:  
For be sure,  
Love that's pure,  
Love's Pleasures shall share.   
FINIS.   

London, Printed for W. Thackeray, T. Passenger, and W. Whitwood.