The two Unhappy Lovers; Being a Wealthy Merchant who broke his heart for Love, and the Mercer's Beautiful Daughter, who after his Death, Poisoned herself in despair.  
Tune of, If Love's a sweet Passion.  
Licenced According to Order.  
 

I.  
IN London there lived a Beautiful Maid,  
Only Daughter unto a Rich Mercer by Trade,  
Who had left to her Portion full three thousand pound,  
Thus both Riches and beauty in her did abound;  
But the Pride of her insolent heart soared above  
All the graces of Beauty, and blasted her Love.   

II.  
As through the fair City she blazed her fame,  
For to Court her, a Merchant and Shopkeeper came  
Nay, a wealthy young Squire, and Curnol likewise,  
Each endeavoured to gain this Rich Beautiful prize,  
But their proffered Services proved but in vain,  
For she frowned, and returned the Darts of disdain.   

III.  
I'll have no Mechanic Shopkeeper, she cried,  
Nor shall any poor Soldier ere I've by my side;  
No, nor Merchant, who ventures his stock on the Seas  
She returned them such insolent answers as these;  
But the wealthy young Squire she fancied we hear,  
Whose Estate was some five or six thousand a year.   

IV.  
The Noble brave Curnol he valued her not,  
And the Shopkeeper strait ways her beauty forgot;  
But the wounded young Merchant he languishing cried,  
Have I loved her! yet must I be clearly denied?  
O go tell her, except she some pity will take,  
That her Languishing Lover must die for her sake.   

V.  
She soon was informed of her languishing Love,  
Yet no manner of pity this Damsel could move;  
But she laughed in derision and thus did reply,  
I'll not hinder the Youth, if he's willing to die;  
For no Merchant my Person shall ever embrace,  
While a Rich noble Gallant young Squire's in place.   

VI  
So soon as her Answer was brought to his Ear,  
He replied with a Sigh and a Sorrowful tear,  
I am ruined by Beauty, my Glory is fled,  
In the dark silent Grave I will now lay my Head  
Thus he straightway departed, and left her to know,  
Many days of sad sorrow for slighting him so.   

VII.  
The Squire whom she did so dearly adore,  
He rejected her Charms, and came near her no more,  
This beginning of sorrow she presently found,  
For the Arrows of Cupid had given the Wound,  
And did cause her in passionate sorrow to cry,  
There is none in the world more unhappy than I   

VIII.  
My true Love the Merchant I sent to the Grave,  
When it lay in my absolute power to save  
His dear innocent Life; nay, I killed him with grief,  
And denied him so much as one glance of relief;  
Therefore now to my passionate sorrow I find,  
I am justly rewarded, and served in my kind.   

IX.  
After my true love to the Grave let me go,  
For here's nothing but torment and trouble I know,  
With which my poor sorrowful Soul is oppressed,  
Let this Potion of Poison now end the contest,  
Then she took up the draught, and did trembling cry,  
I am coming my Love, for thy sake I will die.   
FINIS.   

Printed for: I. Conyers, at the Anchor and Bible near St. Peter's Church in Corn-Hill.