THE lovesick Maid of Waping  
Her Complaint for want of Apple-Pye.  
This Maid was in such deep distress,  
wanting a gamesome Lad,  
She cried for want of Happiness  
that other Lovers had.  
Tune of, Jenny Gin, Fair one let me in, Busy fame, hay boys up go we.  
 
 

YOu that enjoy your heart's delight,  
take pity now on me,  
Whom fortune seeketh to despite,  
and bring to misery:   

But yet I will a Husband have,  
no fare shall me deny,  
For I sigh myself into my Grave  
and for want of Apple-py.   

Now I am seventeen years of age,  
methinks it is high time  
Love's fiery passion to assuage,  
now I am in my prime,   

I must, I must a Husband have,  
no fate shall me deny;  
For I sigh myself into my Grave  
and for want of Apple-py.   

Oh that I played so much the fool  
as in times past I did;  
I might have gone to Venus' School,  
but fortune did forbid:   

And now I must a Husband have,  
no fate shall me deny,  
Fo● I s●gh myself into my Grave,  
and for want of Apple-py.   

When George the Goldsmith came to me  
my beauty he admired;  
And like a fool I did deny  
what of me he desired:   

But now a Husband I will a Husband have  
no fate shall me deny.  
For I sigh myself into my Grave,  
and for want of Apple-py.   
 
 

When Valentine the Vintner came  
that handsome bonny Lad,  
And to deny his fiery flame  
I think I was quite mad:   

But now I must a Husband have,  
no fate shall me deny,  
For I sigh myself into my Grave,  
and for want of Apple py.   

Could I but now a Husband have,  
how happy should I be,  
O then should I be brisk and brave,  
and live in jollitry:   

But the pangs of love doth me oppress,  
tho' fate doth me deny;  
And it is the only happiness  
to taste of Apple-py.   

Then John the joiner came to me,  
whose charms were half divine;  
He told me he could gamesome be,  
and understood to join:  
But alas I must a husband have  
that will both hug and kiss,  
Else I shall pine into my Grave  
for want of hit and miss.   

At last a Tailor neat and fine,  
with Bodkin and his Needle,  
He came to gain though love of mine,  
but him I thought too feeble:  
For I must have a thundering lad  
my passion to assay,  
Or else I surely shall go mad;  
brisk Youngsters come away.   

A brisk young Cobbler to me came,  
who worked in a Stall;  
He said he burnt with fiery flame,  
but I did not like his Awl:  
No, no, 'tis not a cobbling fool  
must be a match for me,  
For I full well must like his Tool  
that must my Husband be.   

And after they were come and gone,  
to me then came a Glover,  
He looked like a feeble one,  
not fit to be a Lover:  
At my denial he looked pale,  
and a passion he was in;  
I bid him hold his babbling tale,  
for he should not prick my skin.   

But then the Blacksmith to me came,  
whose sight I did despise;  
He loved, but I abhorred the same,  
tho' he for pity cries:  
Oh let me not these pains endure,  
but grant to me some ease,  
Except I can some help procure,  
I die of Love's disease.   

At last the Sailor gent and neat  
to me a wooing came;  
And he I thought was most complete  
to ease my fiery flame:  
He gave to me such sweet discourse  
I could him not deny,  
My stubborn heart than felt remorse,   

and he gave me Apple-py.