The unsatisfied LOVER'S Lamentation.  
This hapless lass in discontent  
Laments and makes her moan,  
& is with sorrow almost spent,  
Because she lies alone.  
Tune of, hay boys up go we.  
 
 

THis twenty years and more that I  
have lived a single life,  
Wanting a youngmans' company,  
and can't be made a Wife.  
Oh! could I find some brisk young Lad  
one bout with me to try,  
'twould ease my heart that now is sad,   

and hay boys down I'll lie.   

Unfortunate indeed am I,  
unmarried to remain,  
Ten thousand sighs at least have I  
spent, sent, b●t all in vain,  
And whosoever asketh me,  
'tis sure I'll ne'er deny,  
Who am in necessity,   

and hay boys down I'll lie.   

Had I ten thousand pounds in Gold,  
I'd give it for a touch,  
Or jewels, more than e'er were sold,  
I'd think them not too much.  
But freely I would give them all  
to ease my Malady,  
Come Jack or Will and take your fill,   

for hay boys down I'll lie.   

And sport as long as you think good,  
then lie you down and rest,  
If this by me were understood,  
I then should sure be blest.  
Then come away for pity sake,  
one bout with me to try,  
With my soft hand i'll make it stand,   

then hey boy's down i'll lie.   
 
 

With kisses and embraces sweet  
your Courage I'll refresh,  
To make my happiness complete,  
by tasting of the flesh.  
Come, come with speed and do the deed  
or else for love I die,  
I sigh and mourn and sadly groan,   

that hay boys down would lie.   

Was ever any loving Girls,  
like me left in distress,  
The thing which some do count a Pearl  
there's nothing I love less.  
My Maidenhead I do not esteem,  
would it were gone say I,  
I shall be vexed and much perplexed,   

till hay boys down I lie.   

There's not a Lass I do believe  
in Country or in City,  
That wanting man did so much grieve,  
and yet did find less pity,  
My very sheets each night I knaw,  
and like one mad am I,  
Yet shall not rest but he oppressed,   

till hay boys down I lie.   

'twere better I had been unborn,  
than such a life to live,  
That young men all both great and small  
deny relief to give.  
By Nature I am not so foul  
or shapeless to the Eye,  
Then give some ease to this disease,   

and hay boys down i'll lie.   

Such wanton thoughts possess my mind  
by night and eke by day,  
That sometimes I am half inclined  
to make myself away.  
Then I these thoughts do check again,  
in time I hope say I,  
May find a friend that may extend   

his love, then down lie I.   

As yet I hapless do remain,  
and quite bereaved of hope,  
Were I in either France or Spain,  
i'd ask leave of the Pope.  
That I might Trade with some young blade  
he could not me deny,  
Then should I be from Torment free,   

and hey boys down i'd lie.    

Printed for J. Wright J. Clark W. Thackery, and T. Passenger.