The perjured SWAIN;  
OR, The Damsels Bloody Tragedy.  

You Loyal Lovers now that hear this Damsels Destiny;  
Sure can't forbear to  shed a Tear at this sad Tragedy.   
The Tune is, Sefautian's farewell.  

This may be Printed; R. P.   
 a woman seated on a mountainside, praying  
 a man with a dagger  

AS I ranged for my Recreation,  
just as fair Phebus in glory did rise;  
I o'reheard a young dansel in passion,  
who bathed her Cheeks with her wat'ry Eyes;  
Smiting her Breast, these words she expressed,  
O where shall I wander to find any rest?  
My unkind Swain, has left the Plain,  
and long have I sought him, and yet alas in vain.   

I ne'er thought you could have been ●ruel,  
when you my Person did dearly adore;  
Saying, I was your amorous jewel;  
and vowed you'lov'd me a thousand times more.  
Then all the Gold you e're did behold,  
but I find that passionate Love is soon could;  
When Maids believe, Young-men deceive,  
and that is the reason that I lament and grieve.   

By cach false and flattering Story,  
my Heart to love you was easy betrayed;  
This has clearly Eclipsed my Glory.  
and you have ruined an innocent of aid,  
Whose bitter crys, now pierces the Shies,  
while you do both Triumph and tyramnize  
Over me here, sharp and severe,  
for loving so loyal, my Life must pay full dear.   

HEre I make my moan to the Mounntains,  
and senseless trees which are here in the Grove,  
While my Eyes they do flow like two Fountains,  
sad sighs I sand for the loss of my Love:  
Here I declare, I am in despair,  
my passion is more than I'm able to bear;  
True Love, I find, distracts my mind,  
O Strephon, now tell me, how can you be unkind.   

pale-faced Death come hither and seize me  
why should I live here in sorrow and grief?  
O, it lies in thy power to ease me,  
'tis thou art able to yield me relief:  
Here let me have a sweet s●ient Grave,  
for that is the boon I desire to crave;  
To ease my smart, let me depart,  
without long delaying, come wound me to the heart●.   

Since my Swain has proved so ungrateful,  
I here lie wracked on the torments of love;  
Surely never was Man more deceitful,  
he often called to the Powers above  
To justify, his pure Loyalty,  
yet he from his vows and his promise can fly;  
Here I take on, do what I can,  
sure there is no Creature so false as wretched Man.   

My sweet Lambs that are round me a feeding▪  
here in this Valley both safe and secure;  
While my innocent heart lies a bleeding,  
you are not sensible what I endure:  
What heaviness, my Soul does possess,  
my Pen is not able alas, to express;  
Yet soon I'll be, from my pains free,  
for why should I languish in grief and misery.   

To my Swain my love was entire,  
and can't forget him as long as I live;  
therefore here I do vow to expire,  
and will this minute the fatal stroke give:  
Then she applied, a Da●r to her side,  
which made a deep wound, so that quickly she died:  
In midst of pain, she cried amain,  
farewell to the world, and my false& perjured Swain   
FINIS.   

Printed for J. Blare, at the Sign of the Looking-Glass on London-Bridge.