The Wronged LADY:
OR,
The Lord's Daughter of Leicestershire,
Who dy'd for the Love of a young Noble-man, who left her after
many solemn Protestations.
To the Tune of If Love's a sweet Passion, etc.
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I.
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O Pity a Lover who lyes I declare,
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Where I languish and sigh at the point of Depair,
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He is gone, and has left me, who once did adore,
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My fair beautifull Charms, I shall ne'er see him more:
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Look but down on a Lady, you Powers above,
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And relieve her sick Heart, which is wounded with Love.
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II.
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He never would le[av]e me, but Courted me still,
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Till at length I was conquer'd, he gain'd my good Will;
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Then away to another he hasten'd with speed,
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And has left his young languishing Lady to bleed:
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Therefore look down in pity, you Powers above,
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And relieve my sick Heart which is wounded with Love.
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III.
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Sure never was Mortal so False as my Dear,
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Nor the Arrows of Cupid so kene and severe;
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For in passionate Flames here I languishing lye,
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There is no one can cure me, this day let me dye:
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Therefore look down in pity, you Powers above,
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And relieve my sick Heart, etc.
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IV.
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So soon as my innocent Heart was betray'd,
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Then he flew from the Vows he had formerly made;
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Just as if he had study'd my Ruine alone;
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For he left me to make this sad passionate moan:
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Therefore look on a Lady, you Powers above,
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And relieve my sick Heart, etc.
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V.
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The Torment is greater than I can endure,
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There is nothing but Death which can perfectly cure;
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Terefore send a sharp Arrow, without more delay,
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Which may hasten a Lady's last Funeral Day:
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Do but grant my Desires you Powers above,
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To relieve my sick Heart, etc.
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VI.
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Although the hot Flames of a Fever I feel,
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From my Love I would have you this Sorrow conceal;
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Let him never once know that I dy'd for his sake,
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Of the World and my Friends now my leave I will take,
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Then look down on a Lady, you Powers above,
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And relieve my sick Heart, etc.
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VII.
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When I shall be laid in my slumbering Grave,
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To his Grief he may think of the Wound which he gave.
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And how he did destroy me by Darts of Disdain;
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But it will be too late to recall me again:
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Oh! afford me your pity, Dear Powers above,
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And relieve my sick Heart which is all over love.
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VIII.
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Dear Friends and Relations, why weep you for me,
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Who am going where Transports of Joys I shall see,
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And the Rivers of Pleasure forever will flow?
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Here is nothing but Grief in these Valleys below;
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Therefore grant me your Pity, Dear Powers above,
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And relieve my sick Heart, which is all over Love.
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IX.
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My Joys do encrease, as my Griefs do's decay,
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For I see the bright Angels which soon will convey
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My poor injur'd Soul to the Mansions of Joy,
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There is Pleasures which Envy can never destroy:
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Fare you well, I shall mount to blest Regions above,
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For I dye a young Lady by innocent Love.
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