The Vnfortunate Lover: OR, Merry ANDREW's sad and wofull Lamentation for the Loss of his Sweetheart JOAN.
To the Tune of, I marry and thank ye too.
Licensed according to Order.
ALas I am come to Town,
and here make pitifull moan,
For having rambled up and down
can't find out my true Love Ioan.
I came to Bartholomew Fair,
and search'd that Place alone,
Expecting to have found her there,
my delicate Sweetheart Ioan.
I am in a pitifull Case,
and shall be overthrown,
I have made many a sowre Face,
for want of my true Love Ioan.
In Bed I can take no rest,
but rumble and toss alone,
A thousand Torments in my Breast
for want of my Sweetheart Ioan.
To Love I am so enclin'd
and daily do make sad moan,
And quite distracted in my mind,
for want of my true Love Ioan.
She's as sweet as a sucking Pig,
for her I do make my moan;
I long to Dance the VVedding-Iig
along with my Sweetheart Ioan.
I wander the silent Grove,
and make most piteous moan,
I am over head and ears in Love,
and all for my Sweetheart Ioan.
For she was as sweet a hit,
as ever by me was known,
Her precious Smiles I can't forget,
Oh, where is my Sweetheart Ioan.
Her Lips they were Cherry red,
she had but one fault alone,
A little Child e'er she was VVed,
my delicate Sweetheart Ioan.
I like her never the worse,
the Child's a Champion grown,
By being well brought up at Nurse,
But where is my Sweetheart Ioan.
To speak of her Beauty bright,
there hardly is such a One,
Her pleasant Charms do's dim my sight,
my delicate Sweetheart Ioan.
At once she looks North and South,
her Beauty I needs must own,
She has a pretty Sparrows Mouth,
my delicate Sweetheart Ioan.
Her pretty sweet Bettle-brow,
but Teeth she has not one,
She is as slender as a Cow,
my delicate Sweetheart Ioan.
Her Hair's as black as a Cole,
for her I do make sad moan,
I fear some Lord or Earl has store,
my delicate Sweetheart Ioan.
Printed for P. Brooksby. I. Deacon. I. Blare. I. Back.