The  PLOUGHMAN:  
OR, The Ploughman's Complain For the Loss of his Heart's Delight.  
True Love alone, does cause my moan,  
such Sorrows I possess;  
I being left of joys bereft,  
To languish in Distress.  
Tune of, My Child must have a Father.  

This may be Printed.  
R. P.   
 
 

Youngmen and Maids I pray attend,  
unto a Ploughman's Ditty;  
It is to you these Lines I send,  
in hopes that you will pity  
My sad and woeful Destiny,  
I being now forsaken;  
I thought she loved no man but me,  
yet I was much mistaken.   

I counted her my Heart's Delight,  
and doted on her Beauty;  
I could have served her Day and Night,  
and counted it my Duty:  
My Love to her I made appear,  
at ev'ry time and season,  
Yet I am slighted by my Dear,  
and know not what's the reason.   

Except the meaness of my state,  
does cause her to refuse me;  
But if the truth I may relate,  
she ought not to abuse me:  
And hold my Person thus in scorn,  
in giving the denial;  
For tho' I am a Ploughman Born,  
my Heart is true and Loyal.   
 
 

No rest or quiet could I find,  
my Love is out of measure;  
She still was running in my mind,  
I counted her my Treasure:  
But yet at me she still would scoff,  
instructed by her Mother,  
And at the length did leave me off,  
and Married with another.   

I count this proved my Overthrow,  
by being far asunder,  
So that I daily could not go,  
therefore I now lie under  
The sense of sorrow, care and grief,  
which I am still possessing,  
And ne'er expect to have relief,  
or to enjoy the blessing.   

Tho' she by Letters knew my mind.  
which I was often sending,  
Yet now I find her most unkind,  
my Grief is without ending:  
In Chains of Love I here must lie,  
in Care and Grief surrounded;  
Alas! I freely now could die,  
for why my Heart is wounded.   

But tho' you thus do torture me,  
as I too well do know it,  
I must and will your Captive be,  
for I cannot forego it:  
Therefore always, I'll write thy praise,  
in this my lovesick Story▪  
For I am Will the Ploughman still,  
and will set forth thy Glory.   

She had been true to Cupid's Laws,  
and never coy nor cruel:  
Had not her Mother been the cause,  
I had enjoyed my jewel:  
On Wealth her Mother's mind was bend,  
she greeded out of measure,  
But Love will last when Money's spent.  
then who would Wed for Treasure?   

Young Men that hear me now this day,  
which have a mind to Marry;  
Pray do not linger and delay,  
there's danger if you tarry:  
When e'er you understand and find,  
that others are about her,  
Pray take her while she's in the mind,  
for fear you go without her.    

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball in Pie-corner.