ROBERT MUIRHEADS. LAMENT.  
To a pleasant New Tune.  

1  
Leave of my mind why thinks thou on,  
She that was once my dear  
does thou not know that she is gone,  
and married now I hear  
what madness make the recolect  
to think on such a maid  
who allwise paid me with neglect  
and my desinges bewraed.   

2  
Why wakenest thou again my woes  
and thus tormenteth me,  
who is the worst of all my foes  
who only friend should be,  
is she not dead to me alace  
except her husband die,  
I'll yet remember on her face  
for all her Creul●tie.   

3  
For I never saw a thing so fair  
since I had eyes to see,  
a thing that was both chaste and raire  
〈◊〉 thing that reavisht me,  
〈◊〉 modesty she did exceed,  
● most of women kind,  
thought she had no fault Indeed  
gift she had been mine.   

4  
I wet in my conceit I swear,  
and Constantce to the  
Whilst ●o man Could withstand her feat,  
nor shoes her destiny,  
I Loved her well she loved not me  
she was un great yow'l say,  
some said it was but p●●e●●e  
O what great fools were they   

5  
For I tried all the civil arts,  
that ever any used,  
with tears I did procleam my smart,  
yet daily was abused,  
I am sure if ever she had loved,  
at length she would have showned  
she slighted me and so she proud,  
And manfully disound.   

6  
Unhappy I if I recall,  
these pevis thoughts again  
to bring my spirit under thrall  
to reposes my pain,  
If I had never seen her face  
I had not fainted so,  
to offer up a sacrifice,  
to any thing below.   
FINIS.