THE Mournful Maid of Berkshire: CONTAINING Her Woeful Lamentation for her dearly beloved Maidenhead, which she unfortunately lost upon the Wheat-mow, with lusty Dick the Dung-man.  
To the Tune of, The Jealous Lover.  
Licenced.  
 

ATtend you Friends and Parents dear,  
Unto this sad Relation here,  
Which to the World I here unfold,  
A greater Truth cannot be told:   

When Men to Wickedness are bend,  
And Parents gives their joint-consent,  
To the Commission of their Crimes,  
Well may we say, Sad is the times.   

Friends ought for to instruct them so,  
That they the Laws of God might know;  
But some are of another mind,  
As by this Sequel you shall find:   

Their lives a Woman in Berk-shire,  
Who has one lubey Son we hear,  
And he endeavoured night and day,  
A modest Damosel to betray,   

That lived with his Mother then;  
She could not be at quiet, when  
He found her all alone, for still  
He pressed to gain her kind good will.   

The modest Damosel often cried,  
His wanton suit must be denied;  
Yet ne'er the less, this would not do,  
For still he did his ends pursue.   

Sometimes he'd to her Chamber creep,  
When she perhaps was fast a sleep,  
Thinking he might acceptance find,  
But she was of another mind:   

And would not yield to his Request,  
Yet he'd not let her be at rest,  
Swearing that he himself would kill,  
If he of her had not his will.   

Say what you will, 'tis all in vain,  
My Reputation i'll not slain;  
Forbear your importunity,  
Why should you strive to ruin me.   

If you do not your suit forbear,  
Then do I solemnly declare,  
Your Mother, she the truth shall know,  
How you would seek my overthrow.   

He never valued what she said,  
So that at length this modest Maid,  
Informed his Mother out of hand,  
Who gave the Lass, this Repremand,   

Why Housewife, Housewife, she replied  
Why must my Son be thus denied,  
Let him enjoy his Heart's Delight,  
Perhaps he may your love requite:   

For if by him with Child you prove,  
My Son I will in kindness move  
To take you for his lawful Wife,  
Then will you lead a happy life.   

The Maid was loath to trust to this,  
But said, I pray sweet Mistress,  
Let me go seek some other place,  
For fear he brings me to disgrace.   

Her Dame replied, As I am true,  
I can't, nor will not part with you;  
Therefore pray set your heart at ease,  
And see my Son you strive to please.   

Soon after this, he chanced to meet  
The Damosel on a Mow of Wheat,  
Whom he with vows soon over came,  
And reaped what I forbear to name.   

Now when the Damosel proved with Child,  
She then was bitterly reviled,  
Both by the Mother and the Son,  
They from their former vows did run.   

The Damosel then in sad distress,  
With grief of heart and heaviness,  
Cried out, Behold my wretched state,  
A Creature most unfortunate.   

Would I the Wretch had never known,  
For here in bitter tears of moan,  
I do my Lamentation make,  
This heart of mine with grief will break.   

Ye youthful Damsels, fair and young,  
Take care that no deluding tongue;  
Does e'er ensnare you for you'll find,  
Men most unconstant, like the wind   

They seldom value what they swear,  
Therefore young Damsels all beware;  
Lest at the last you weep like me,  
In tears of sad extremity.