THE Loyal Soldier of Flanders: OR, The Faithless Lass of London.  
To the Tune of How can I be marry and glad?  

Licenced according to Order.   
 
 
 

YOung Thomas he was a proper Lad,  
and loved Elizabeth as his Life,  
Four Years and a half to serve he had,  
e'er he could make her Lawful Wife.   

When this his Master happened to know,  
he laboured the Bonds of Love to break;  
Then Thomas a Soldier he strait did go,  
to venture his Life for his Love's sake.   
 
 

Remember your solemn-Vows, she said,  
by Letters my Mind to thee I'll tell,  
Let no other Love thy Heart invade,  
so long as I am alive and well.   

Said she, by all the Powers above,  
my Heart I'll give to no one but thee,  
If e'er I prove false unto my Love,  
then let me a sad Example be.   

I'll patiently wait for thy Return,  
and pray that the Heavens may be my Guide,  
The Watery Waves in Flames shall burn,  
before I will break my Vow, she cried.   

He entered on Board and left his Dear,  
the Winds did rise, and he Seas did roar,  
Death did in sundry shapes appear,  
until he arrived at the Holland shore.   

Then like a most true entire Friend,  
after he had crossed the Dream Main,  
To her he did loving Letters send,  
and she did return him the like again.   

Yet they in private often did meet,  
their seeming hard Fortune to bemoan;  
And with many Vows and Kisses sweet  
they solemnly joined their Hearts in one.   

At length he taking her by the Hand,  
said he, I must cross the Ocean main,  
To venture my Life in a Foreign Land,  
yet Loyal to thee I will still remain.   

But oh! most unfaithful Wretch at last,  
in little more than a Twelvemonths space,  
For all those Solemn Vows that were passed,  
another Lover she did embrace.   

Now when he returned and found it so,  
he then was tormented in his mind,  
He sighing said, Now full well I know,  
no creature so false as Womankind.   

He still from his Heart sad Sighs did fetch,  
and often in Passion thus said he,  
Thou false and for sworn Perjured Wretch,  
'tis thou that alone hast ruined me.   

What solemn Vows to me didst thou make,  
when first I went from the English, Share?  
But seeing thou art false, now for thy sake,  
I'll never believe a Woman more,    

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