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Altho’ youth be wasting,
affection is lasting;
My charming young Nancy
if ye were my ain.
But what if my Nancy
should alter her fancy,
And favour another,
for honour and gain?
I would not compel her,
but plainly would tell her,
Begone you false Nancy,
ye's ne’er be my ain.
MY SAILOR DEAR.
You maidens pretty, in town and city,
pray hear with pity my mournful strain;
A maid confounded, in sorrow drowned,
and deeply wounded with grief & pain.
All for the sake of a lovely Sailor,
I am still bewailing in melting tears:
Whilst other maidens are fondly playing,
I am grieving for my Sailor dear.
