The VIRGIN's COMPLAINT AGAINST Young men's Unkindness.  
Of young men's falsehood she doth much complain,  
Resolving never to love Man again:  
Experience tells her Men love but for fashion,  
That makes her rail against them in such passion.  
To the Tune of, Cupid's Courtesy, etc.  
 depiction of woman  
 depiction of Cupid  

I Am so deep in love,  
I cannot hid it,  
It breaks me of my rest,  
and of my quiet;  
For when I see his face,  
it so inflames me,  
That I must love him still,  
though the world blame me.   

O fie upon this love,  
it will undo me,  
I'll ne'er love man again,  
should the Gods woo me;  
For if once I can  
shake off this passion,  
I'll ne'er love man again,  
but only for fashion.   

There's no believe in man,  
though they seem civil,  
For when they ●it like saints,  
they think most evil;  
Therefore be ruled by me,  
never trust no man,  
But if you needs must love,  
pray love a woman.   

I wish blind Cupid had  
been sound sleeping.  
When like a crafty lad  
he came so creeping,  
To wound my tender heart,  
and pierce my marrow,  
I felt his fatal dart,  
to my great sorrow.   

Never poor virgin was  
in such a taking,  
I oft looked in my glass,  
pleasure forsaking;  
My cheeks were pale and wan,  
my lips did trimble,  
Because I loved a man  
that did dissemble.   
 depiction of man  
 depiction of man  

O what a simple girl  
I was for certain,  
For to love Lord or Earl,  
I will not hearken;  
Not one in twenty score  
but is deceitful,  
Therefore I'll love no more,  
men are deceitful.   

It is their constant trade  
to cog and flatter,  
Or to delude a maid,  
her fort to batter;  
But if they prate and lie,  
I'll not believe them,  
Such love I'll never try,  
altho' it grieve them.   

They'll profess and pretend  
much of affection,  
Until they make you bend  
to love's subjection:  
Of your hearts craftily  
they will bereave you,  
Till a new face they spy,  
than they will leave you.   

Their words are all but wind,  
like winter weather,  
Unconstant and unkind,  
light as a feather:  
I tell you flat and plain  
I'll not abide it,  
To love a man again,  
once having tried it.   

Blame me not though I be  
something in passion,  
For now I plainly see  
it is the fashion;  
For such falsehearted men  
are grown so common,  
That when I love again,  
I'll love a woman.   

Why should a woman dote  
on such a bubble,  
That's good for nothing but  
to procure trouble?  
Every day I will pray  
for to live single,  
That my affection may  
with no man's mingle.   

Ladies take my advice,  
you have rare features,  
Always be coy and nice  
to such false creatures;  
No man will constant prove,  
no not my brother;  
Then if you needs must love,  
love one another.    

Printed for A.M.W.O. and T. Thackeray, at the Angel in Duck-lane.