The Passionate Damsel; OR, THE True Miss of a MAN.
In which she sets forth a true Sence of her Sorrow.

O come away, young Men I pray,
and grant me my Request;
Without your aid I am afraid
I never shall have rest.
To the Tune of, The Vertue of the Pudding.

This may be Printed,

R. P.
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I Am a young Maid of Beauty bright,
that have a desire indeed to be Wed,
That I might take part of such pleasant delight
that e'ry young Woman enjoys in the Bed
With a Husband.
This does my heart with sorrow seize
to see young Dolly nay, Bridget and Joan,
How they have their Sweethearts to walk where they please
while I in much sorrow make pitiful moan
For a Husband.
There's little pritty smirking John,
he formerly told me I should be his Bride
But he has forsook me, and taken young Nan,
therefore in much sorrow my patience is try'd
For a Husband.
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That he would do so, I ne'er did dream,
when I us'd to feast him with Apples & Ale,
And often with Cheese-Cakes, nay, Custards and Cream,
And yet he hath left me to weep and bewail
For a Husband.
Take pity of me some Man I pray,
for into despair I'm ready to fall,
If you have no Money the Parson to pay,
I'll pawn my best Petticoat, Smock and all
For a Husband.
Once Johnny he set me on his Knee,
and many sweet Kisses of him then I had,
And he with Embraces so cudled me,
that e'er since that time I have been almost mad
For a Husband.
Alas! I cannot sleep in my Bed,
but every night there I tumble and toss,
And many strange Rumours doth run in my head
I freely declare that I am at a loss
For a Husband.
Now any young Man I would embrace,
that willing is then my distemper to cure,
I hope there is some that will pity my Case,
for no Body knows what I daily endure
For a Husband.
My Cheeks were once clear, white and red,
like the very Rose or the Lillies so fair;
But now you may see it is paler then Lead,
and I am almost at the point of Despair
For a Husband.
Since I have lost my true Love John,
I wish I could have either Robin or Dick
There's no one so much knows the miss of a Man,
as I that in sorrow hath sigh'd my self sick
For a Husband.
Alas! I see still day by day,
a many young Women that now are with Child,
And I that am many years older than they
must still live a Maid which makes me grow wild
For a Husband.
O that I might have my Delight
on me for a Living he then should rely,
I'd labour all day, and I'd please him at night,
there's none in the World should be kinder than I
To a Husband.

Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in Pye-corner.

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