THE Sea-mans doleful farewell; Or, The Greenwich Lovers mournful Departure. 
See here the Pattern of true Love,  
which abs●nce cannot slain;  
And nothing shall his mind remove,  
till he returns again.   
Tune of, State and Ambition.  

This may be Printed,  
R. P.   
 woodcut of two figures standing at port  woodcut of two ships at sea  Man. 
farewell my dearest Love, now must I leave thee▪  
to the East-Indies my Course I must steer,  
And when I think upon't lore it doth grie●e me,  
let nothing possess thee w●th doubt or with fear;  
or I'll be Loyal unto thee for ever,  
and, like to the Turtle, will constant remain,  
Nothing but cruel Death our Love shall fever,  
but we will be married when I come again.  Maid. 
nd must we, by Fortune, thus strangely be partend?  
what dost thou think will become then of me?  
●ho must continue here quiter broken-hearted,  
let me thy true Love now venture with thee:  
●ear not the dangers that wait on the Ocean,  
●y troubles will greater be here on the Shore,  
to thy true Love now grant what she doth mention,  
●o else greatly fears she shall see thee no more.  Man. 
With dangers on Seas thou art little acquainted,  
for when the winds blow, and the billows do roar,  
I fear th●e( my true Love) will greatly be dounted,  
then let me entreat thee to stay on the Shore:  
My heart in thy breast I will sure leave behind me,  
and thou of my Constancy ne're shall complain,  
A Pattern of true Love thou ever shalt find me,  
and we will be married when I come again.  Maid. 
How many, like thee, that are constant and loyal,  
do venture to Sea, and do never return?  
Then grant me my suit and make no more denial,  
for I in thine absence for ever shall mourn:  
Oh like to a Sea-Boy let me be attired,  
and talk not of leaving me here on the Shore,  
Thy Company by me so much is desired,  
that sure I should die should I see thee no more.  
 woodcut of woman with fan  woodcut of ship at sea  Man. 
Cease, my true Love, and no more do persuade me,  
●hy shouldst thou run hazards just now in thy prime?  
Thy true Love for ever blind Cupid hath made me,  
and then to the top-mast i'm sure cannot climb;  
Thy lily white hand cannot handle the tackle,  
the pitch and the tar on thy palms will remain,  
Tho' now thou art fettered in ●upids strong shac●le,  
yet we will be married when I come again.  Maid. 
Go then, my trur Love, and Heave●s great blessing  
( where e're thou dost sail) still upon thee attend,  
Love is a pleasure beyond all expressing,  
and Neptune, my dearest, I pray thee defend:  
For if in mine absence my Love should mi●carry,  
whom I for his Virtues do so much adore,  
Then I of my life without doubt should be weary,  
and pine to my grave should I see thee more.  Man. 
Come be of good comfort and grieve not my dearest,  
for I am as loth from my Love to depart,  
Heaven can prevent all the dangers thou fearest,  
then let not such jealousies trouble thy heart:  
For should I behold all the Beauties in Venice.  
yet still to my Dear I would constant remain,  
And nothing shall cause any difference between us,  
but we will be married when I come again.  Maid. 
I long for that hour and covet the minute  
when Hymen my true love and me shall unite:  
I surfeit to think of the pleasure there's in it,  
'tis comfort by day, but far sweeter by night,  
When we like true lovers shall join our poor face  
and find such delight as I ne'er knew before,  
Tis for certain a bliss for to lie in embraces,  
and then I will part with my true Love no more.  Man. 
Well now the wind serves, in despite I must leave thee,  
but at our farewell let us change a sweet kiss:  
Again I do swear I will never deceive thee,  
and hope at the last to enjoy what I wish;  
Still h●ping that Fortune will show me such favour  
that I may be prosperous on the Salt Main,  
My true love in sorrow I fear for to leave her,  
but hope to enjoy her when I come again.  Maid. 
Then down their poor cheeks the salt Tears they did trickle,  
whole volleys of sighs from their breasts there did fly,  
At last he prevailed by little and little  
that he might be gone, and she could not deny:  
But kisses at parting were wonderful plenty,  
and needs it must be that it grieved them sore,  
Tears they did drop till their eyes they were empty,  
for fear she her true love should never see more.   

Printed for I. Deacon at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street without Newgate.