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He ſaid, That is true, and none can you ſave,
For I all this night have been digging your grave,
Poor harmleſs creature,when the heard him ſay ſo,
Her-eyes like a-fountain began for to flow.
A grave and a ſpade ſtanding by ſhe did ſee,
And ſaid, Muſt this be a bride-bed for me?
O perjured creature, thou word of all men!
Heav'n will reward you when I'm dead and gone.
O pity my infant, and ſpare my ſweet life,
Let me go diſtreſs'd, if I'm not your wife;
O take not my life, leſt my foul you betray,
Muſt I in my youth be thus hurried away!
Her hands white as lilies in ſorrow ſhe wrung,
Intreating for mercy, ſaying, What have I done
To you my dear Will! What makes you ſo ſevere,
To murder your true love, that you lov'd ſo dear?
He ſaid, There's no time diſputing to ſtand,
And inſtantly taking his knife in his hand,
He pierced her heart, while the bleed it did flow,
And into the grave her fair body did throw
He cover'd her body, and home he did come,
Leaving none but the birds her death to bemoan;
On board of the Bedford he enter'd ſtraightway.
Which, lay at Portſmouth, and bound for the ſea.
For Carpenter's mate he was enter’d we hear,
Fit for the voyage away then to ſteer,
But as in the cabin one night he did ly,
The voice of his true love he heard ſor to ſay,
O perjured William! awake now and hear.
The words of your true love that lov'd you ſo dear,
The ſhip out of Portſmouth it never ſhall go,
Till I be reveng'd of this lad overthrow.
