The DAMOSELS Tragedy: OR, True Love in Distress.  
Being an account of a young Man, who Slighting a young Maiden who had fixed her love upon him, did thereby cause her to end her days in Dispair by a dreadful Dose of Poison.  
To the Tune of, Charon, etc.  
This may be Printed, R. P.  
 
 

YOu Loyal Lovers attend to my D●tty,  
which with a sorrowful heart I raise,  
'Tis of a Damsel, the more is the pity,  
who with strong Poison did end her days:  
Fair Elinor this Lass was named,  
John the cause of all her Woe,  
Sighing she said, tho' I here may be blamed,  
No body knows what I undergo!   

In my soft Breast is a secret Fire,  
which by the power of Love increased,  
Nothing but Death is my earnest desire,  
hoping there by I shall be released:  
For I have lost my dearest jewel,  
this to my Grief, alas! I know,  
My dearest Johnny, O why now so Cruel!  
you little think what I undergo.   

Here do I languish, by you unlamented,  
now my poor innocent heart's betrayed,  
How can you any way here be contented,  
when you have ruined a harmless Maid?  
To me you have been most falsehearted,  
proving my final overthrow,  
Since from my presence you have departed,  
No body knows what I undergo!   

Every Vein in my heart now does tingle,  
while I in sorrow am left alone,  
Many sad Sighs with my Tears I mingle,  
while to the world here I make my moan:  
O that I might but once behold him,  
than would it Expiate my Woe,  
But in my arms I shall never enfold him,  
No body knows what I undergo!   

down from her eyes the tears flowed like a fountain  
being surrounded with Care and Grief,  
And tho' her sorrows she still was recanting,  
there was no Creature to yield Relief:  
Many a bitter Sigh she giving,  
while her poor heart was sunk full low,  
Said she, I here am a weary of Living,  
No body knows what I undergo.   

In her strange Fancy ran many a Notion,  
before the passion of Love was past,  
At length it was to prepare a sad Pation,  
the which bereaved her of Life at last:  
Then as in Torments she lay Dying,  
being oppressed with Grief and Woe,  
Wring her hands like a Lover, and crying,  
No body knows what I undergo.   

Farewell, farewel, to my dearest for ever,  
I must submit to the hand of Fate,  
If that you here would afford me your pity,  
now you would find it is far too late:  
Then with those words she did Expire,  
saying, to Dye I am afraid,  
All her Relations and Friends that was nigh her,  
wept for to hear the sad moan she made.   

Here have I given a perfect Relation,  
of a young Damsel that Died you hear,  
Through her false Lover's Dissimulation,  
who can forbear now to shed a Tear?  
True Love abused it is such a Trial,  
that there is few thorough it can Wade,  
Therefore O youngmen, now learn to be Loyal,  
think of the Sorrowful End she made.   
FINIS.   

Printed for J. Back, at the Black Boy on London-Bridge, near the Drawbridge.