The Woman Warrior:  
BEING An Account of a young Woman who lived in Cow-Cross, near West-smithfield; who changing her Apparel Entered herself on Board, in quality of a Soldier, and sailed to Ireland, where she Valiantly behaved herself, particularly at the Siege of Cork, where she lost her Toes and received a Mortal Wound in her Body, of which she since Died in her return to London.  
To the Tune of Let the Solders rejoice.  

Licenced according to Order.   
 

LEt the Females attend  
To the Lines which are penned,  
For here I shall gi'— be a Relation,  
Of a young Married Wife,  
Who did venture her Life,  
For a Soldier, a Soldier, she went from the Nation.   

She her Husband did leave,  
And did likewise receive  
Her Arms, and on Bo—ard she did enter,  
And right valiantly went,  
With a Resolution bend  
To the Ocean, the Ocean, her Life there to venture.   

Yet of all the Ship's Crew  
Not a Seaman that knew  
They then had a Woe— man so near 'em;  
On the Ocean so deep,  
She her Council did keep,  
Ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did fear 'em.   

She was valiant and bold,  
And would not be controlled  
By any that da— re to offend her:  
If a Quarrel arose,  
She would give them dry Blows,  
And the Captain, the Captain did highly commend her.   
 

For he took her to be  
Then of no mean Degree,  
A Gentleman's So— n or a 'Squire;  
With a hand white and fair,  
There was none could compare,  
Which the Captain, the Captain did often admire.   

On the Irish Shore  
Where the Cannons did roar,  
With many stout La— ds she was landed;  
There her Life to expose,  
She lost Two of her Toes,  
And in Battle, in Battle was daily commanded.   

Under Grafton she fought,  
Like a brave Hero stout,  
And made the proud To To—ries retire;  
She in Field did appear  
With a Heart void of Fear,  
And she bravely, she bravely did charge and give Fire.   

While the battering Balls,  
Did assault the strong Walls  
Of Cork, and the swe— et Trumpets sounded,  
She did bravely advance  
Where by unhappy Chance,  
This young Female, young Female, was fataly wounded,   

At the end of the Fray,  
Still she languishing lay,  
Then over the O— cean they brought her,  
To her own Native Shore,  
Now they ne'er knew before,  
That a Woman, a Woman, had been in that slaughter.   

What she long had concealed,  
Now at length she revealed,  
That she was a Woe— man that ventured,  
Then to London with care,  
She did streightways repair,  
But she died, oh! she died e'er the City she entered,   

When her Parents beheld,  
They with Sorrow was filled  
For why they did dear— lie adore her,  
In her Grave now she lies,  
'Tis not watery Eyes,  
No nor sighing, nor sighing, that e'er can restore her.    

Printed for Charles Bates next to the Crown Tavern in West-smith field.