The true Lover's joy: OR, The Reward of Constany BEING, An Amorous Diaologue between a Seaman and his Love:  
The Maid implores the aid of Charon's Boat,  
That to the gloomy shades her soul might float;  
With sighs and groans, much weary and oppressed,  
At length he heard her moan, and gave her rest  
From all past dangers, and from future harms,  
She safe arrived, and anchored in his arms.  
To a New Tune, much in Request.  
 Maid. 

HArk Charon, come away,  
bring forth thy Boat and Oars,  
And carry me poor harmless Maid  
unto the Elysium Shores.   Charon. 

Who calls Charon in haste,  
whilst I sit here in pain  
I carry none but pure and chaste,  
such as true Love hath slay.   

I come dear soul I come,  
thy face doth so incharm me,  
Come in my Boat and take thy room,  
neither wind nor wave shall harm thee.   Maid. 

Now I am come in thy Boat,  
I am a Maid undone,  
Sighing my heart is almost broke,  
for my Love he is from me gone &   

Thus as I pass the shades,  
i'll tell you a mournful tale,  
So full of sighs as we do pass,  
shall serve us for a gale.   

And so beguiled the time,  
i'll sing you a true Love's song,  
Mine eyes shall show a Sea of tears  
to carry the Boat along.   
 
 

what's become of those hard hearts,  
of a Virgin takes no pity,  
They're sailing to Virginny parts,  
where Neptune hath built a City.   

O Cupid hath wounded me,  
and hath pierced my tender heart,  
To call for one whom I loved so dear,  
who cares but little for't.   

Thus in the shades below,  
we'll waste the tedious hours,  
No gusts of winds, but sighs shall blow,  
the Boat with Charon's Oars.   His Answer. 

Stay gentle Charon stay,  
and let thy Boat alone,  
Row not the harmless Maid away  
that sits and makes her moan.   

For she that calls so fast,  
and sighs so at thy stay,  
A Virgin is as pure and chaste.  
as e'er true Love did slay.   

She's no dear soul for thee,  
let not her face incharm thee,  
Though room within thy Boat there be,  
her beauty there may harm thee.   

O fair one, if you go,  
i'm more undone than you,  
My heart doth equal sorrow know,  
and still my Love is true.   

The shades you must not pass,  
nor mournful stories tell  
Instead of sighing gales, alas!  
a kiss will do as well.   

You'd better stay ashore,  
and sing us a true Love's song,  
There's Sea enough he needs no more,  
to carry his Boat along.   

No heart so hard I know,  
but would gladly ease your pain,  
Else let him to Virginny go,  
and never return again.   

If Cupid hath wounded you,  
he had wounded me before,  
If you love as you say you do,  
I love you as much or more.   

In Beds of softest Down,  
we'll spend the short lived nights,  
No gusts of wind or sighs shall drown  
the current of our delights.   Maid. 

Come gentle Charon come,  
and me to shore remove,  
The wind despairing sighs did blow,  
shall waft me unto my Love.   

How flow the Boatsman's tears,  
if he no faster ply,  
My Love to rid me of my fears,  
shall lend me his wings to fly.   

To thee dear Love I float,  
finding thee just and true.  
And bid to Charon and his Boat,  
eternally adieu.   

Make haste, make haste my Dear,  
for if thou longer stay,  
Through the floods without all fear,  
my Arms shall make their way.   

Welcome my love to shore  
I'll keep thee now from harms,  
And thou shalt ride forever more,  
at Anchor in my Arms.    

Printed for Philip Brooksby in West Smithfield.