Three excellent new sons (sic)/Young Doctor Stafford

DOCTOR STAFFORD

ONE ev’ning as I walked,
down by the rocks of Moile,
I having all things ready,
just going to see a friend ;
It’s th ere I spied a young man,
of wit and beauty bright,
And to my sad misfortune,
he's prov d my heart’s delight.

I cannot blame this young man,
because he does not know;
I'm afraid the want money,
will be my overthrow:
I'm afraid the want of money,
will my sad ruin prove;
One look from his sweet glances,
would cure the pains of love.

We’ll send for doctor Richeson,
he being a man of skill,
To see the weaver’s daughter,
whose lying very ill:
To see the weaver’s daughter,
on sick-bed where she lay,
All for the doctor’s prentice,
who stole her heart away.

I(illegible text) in came doctor Richeson,
likewise his brother John,
Likewise the doctor’s prentice,
for they all came in:
They stood before her bed,
they stood all in a row,
But when she saw young Stafford,
her colour pale did grow.

She lifted up her head from,
the pillow where she lay,
She said young doctor Stafford,
love use me tenderly;
He handed her a drink,
and not one word did say,
Tears came rolling down his cheeks,
on the pillow where she lay.

She lifted up her head,
with a heavy sigh said she,
I pray young doctor Stafford,
love, use me tenderly;
For I’m sick and very bad,
and in a deep decay,
He said my dear if you be spar’d,
it’s marry’d we will be,

He slipped off his shoes,
and softly went behind,
And for three weeks and better,
he did her close attend,
The last words that she spoke,
her voice was slow but clear:
All goodness be my darling's guide,
he s the boy that I love dear.

I am a sporting young man,
scarce 18 years of age,
And many a pretty girl,
did with me engage;
Many a pretty girl has,
fallen in love with me:
But the weaver’s daughter lov’d me best
she died for love of me.

One evening as I walked.
down by her father’s land,
A Waft came o’er my shoulder,
which put me to a stand,
The neighbours they do say,
that her spirit it haunts me,
But I am sure they’er wrong,
she left no blame on me.

It’s straightway in bedlam,
this young man was confin’d,
Quite bereft of senses,
and in iron chains bound,
Her spirit came unto him,
saying young man revive,
For I ne’er was ordain’d
to be your wedded wife.