The London Lasses Lamentation

Alas! I am in a Rage,
and bitterly weep and cry,
Because I'm nineteen years of age,

yet cannot be married not I.

No Gallant regards my moan,
for Love I am like to dye,
It grieves my Heart to lye alone,

yet cannot be married not I.

Mine, Eyes do's like Fountains flow,
as I on my Pillow lye,
There's none knows what I undergo,

yet cannot be married not I.

There's Margery, Sue and Kate,
has Husbands with them to lye,
Yet none regards my wretched state,

yet cannot be married not I.

Young-men I must tell ye true,
I scorn to report a Lye,
I am both fair and handsome too,

yet cannot be married not I.

My Father is gray and old,
and surely e'er long will dye,
And though he'll leave me all his Gold,

I cannot, &c.

Oh! this my Grief and Care,
the which I cannot pass by,
To think I am my Father's Heir,

yet cannot, &c.

I am in Distraction hurl'd,
and do for a Husband cry,
It's more to me than all the World,

yet cannot, &c.

I am a poor Love-sick Girl,
and ready with Grief to Dye,
I proffer'd Iewels, Gold and Pearl,

yet cannot, &c.

I Silks I am still array'd,
and e'ery new Fashion buy,
Because I am loath to dye a Maid,

yet cannot, &c.

As fine as the Queen of May,
I flourish with gallantry,
I wear my Top-knot e'ery day,

yet cannot, &c.

A paint, and I powder still,
to tempt all that I come nigh,
But yet let me do what I will,

yet cannot, &c.

There's never a Lass in Town,
for Beauty can me come nigh:
But Fortune she has sent a Frown,

I cannot be married not I.

The Gold which I have in store,
I value no more than Clay,
I'd give all, had I ten times more,

so I might be married to day.