Page:Farmer's son or, The unfortunate lovers.pdf/4

 Now she's confin'd unto a goal,

The Lord have mercy on her soul;

Crying, Alas! I am undone,

That ever I lov'd a Farmer’s Son.

This young man was in great distress;

He tore his hair and smote his breast;

O then distracted he did run;

In Bedlam lies the Farmer's Son.

Young lovers all of each degree,

That's standing by, come pity me;

And never do as (I [sic] have done,

I've ruin'd myself and Farmer's Son.

And for the sake of cursed gold.

This maiden's precious blood was sold;

But now at last as we may see,

It prov'd the ruin of all the three

Nymphs and ye Swains,

Who are youthful and gay,

Attend to my call

And be blest while ye may;

Lads and Lasses hither come,

To the sound of my drum,

I have treasures in store,

That you never have seen.

Chorus. Then haste let us rove,

To the Island of Love,

Where Cupid is Captain,

And Venus is Queen.