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EBBA 31374

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
The Bristol Bridegroom;
Ship-Carpenters Love to the Mer-
chant's Daughter.

YOU loyal lovers all draw near,
A true relation you shall hear,
Of a young couple who provd to be
A pattern of true loyalty.

A merchant did in Bristol dwell,
As many people know full well;
He had a daughter of beauty bright,
In whom he placd his hearts delight.

He had no child but only she,
Her father lovd her tenderly
Many to court her thither came,
Gallants of worth, birth, and fame.

Yet notwithstanding all their love,
A young ship-carpenter did prove
To be the master of her heart,
She often said, Well never part.

As long as life and breath remain,
Your company Ill not refrain;
No cursed gold or silver bright
Shall make me wrong my hearts delight.

Now when her father came to know,
His daughter lovd this young man so,

He causd her to be sent to sea,
To keep her from his company,

Which when his daughter came to hear,
Without the thought of dread or fear,
She drest himself in seamans hue,
And after him she did pursue.

Unto the Captain she did go,
And said, Right worthy sir, tis so,
You do want men, I understand,
Im free to fight with heart and hand.

The Captain straitway did reply,
Young man youre welcome heartily;
One guinea in her hand he gave,
She passed for a seaman brave.

Soon after this the ship did sail,
And with a fair and pleasant gale;
But the ship-carpenter her dear,
Did little think his love so near.

She then appeared for to be
A person of no mean degree;
With pretty fingers long and strait,
She soon became the surgeons mate.

It happened so that this same ship,
A storming of the town of Dieppe,
She lay at anchor something nigh,
Where the cannon balls did fly.

Then the first man that wounded were,
Was this young bold ship carpenter:
When drums beat and trumpets sound,
He in his breast receivd a wound.

Then to the surgeons care was he
Brought down with speed immediately,
Whereas the pretty surgeons mate
Did courteously upon him wait.

She drest the wounded dismal part,
Although the sight did pierce her heart;
Yet she did use her utmost skill
To cure him with a right good will.

She curd him in a little space,
He often gazd upon her face;
Surgeon, said he, such eyes as thine
Did formerly my heart entwine:

If ever I live to go on shore,
And she be dead whom I adore,
I will thy true companion be,
And neer forsake thy company.

If she be dead this will I do,
To the female sex Ill bid adieu,
And neer will marry for her sake,
But to the seas myself betake.

THE merchants daughter of Bristol who
To her love provd just and true,
When many storms were overblown
She to her love herself made known.

The season of the year being past,
The ship was homewards bound at last,
When into harbour she did get,
The seamen all on shore were set;

But yet of all the whole ships crew,
Theres not a soul among them knew
That they a woman had so near,
Until she told it to her dear.

To whom these words she did unfold,
Not long ago, cries she, you told
Me plainly that such eyes as mine,
Did formerly your heart entwine.

Then without any more ado,
Into his arms she straitway flew,
And cries, My love, thou art my own,
This have I done for thee alone.

His heart was touchd with joy likewise,
When as the tears stood in his eyes;

[He said, Thou hast a valiant heart,]
And hath perform'd a true loves part.

Therefore without any more delay,
He drest her like a lady gay,
So then they marryd were with speed,
As formerly they had agreed.

THEN to her fathers house he went,
And found him in much discontent;
He asked for his daught[e]r dear,
Which piercd her fathers heart to hear.

He with a mournful sigh replyd,
I wish she had in her cradle dyd,
Then I should have seen my darlings death
When she had yielded up her breath.

But now I neer shall see her more,
My jewel whom I still adore,
O most unhappy man was I,
To part her from your company.

Had I a kingdom now in store,
Nay, had I that and ten times more,
Id part with all her face to see,
Daughter, would I had dyd for thee.

The young man hearing what he said,
Replyd, Your daughter is not dead,
For you within an hours space,
Shall surely see your daughters face.

He rode as fast as he could hie,
And fetchd her home immediately,
He set her in her fathers hall,
Where on her knees she strait did fall.

The old man was with joy possest,
His daughter then he kist and blest,
Thrice welcome home art thou to me,
Once more my jewel from the sea.

To him the truth she did relate,
And how she had been the surgeons mate;
Then did he smile and was most glad,
And gave them all that eer he had.

She that was seaman and surgeons mate,
Reserved by the hand of fate,
She now is made a lawful wife,
And liveth free from care and strife.

Young lovers all a pattern take,
When you a solemn contract make,
Stand to the same whateer betide,
As did this faithful loving bride.

Printed and Sold at the Printing-Office, in
Bow-Church-Yard, London.

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