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The FORLORNE DAMSEL,

YE gods of love that rule above,
pity a maid that's wounded,
By Cupid's dart, I feel the ſmart,
and grief has me ſurrounded.

I ſigh and moan ſince he is gone,
who was my chiefeſt fancy,
The other day he fail'd away,
and parted from his Nancy.

May woe attend my cruel friends,
that caus'd his tranſportation
For him I pine, lament and whine,
in woeful deſperation,

Through frightful dreams I often ſcream,
and ſtart out of my flumber,
Then in amaze, around I gaze,
and of my dear I ponder.

I cannot blame my darling ſwain,
though from me he is parted,
His abſence makes me live in pain,
I'm almoſt broken hearted.

My parents they sent him away,
to face his foes ſo cruel,
All for to part from me my heart,
my dear and only jewel.

My love is tall, comely withal,
and rarely put together,
His perſon meek, his breath as ſweet,
as dew in ſummer weather.