The Unhappy Lass of Canterbury

Young lovers all in town or city,
Listen to this love-lorn strain;
My heart is almost broke with weeping,
Not long here I shall remain.
My love was the flower of London city,
My love I could not long retain,
In fighting for Old England?s glory,
My darling soldier he was slain.

Scarce one and twenty was my true love,
One and twenty years of age,
When ordered for to quit old England
With his foe for to engage;
With eagerness we did pursue them,
They wounded were that did remain,
When in the very heat of action,
My darling soldier he was slain.

Near Canterbury?s famed city,
This blooming damsel did reside;
Long time this young man her he courted,
For to be his bonny bride;
All things they quickly were got ready,
For the joyful wedding-day;
But in the midst of all my raptures,
My love from me was forc?d away.

As by myself I sat a musing,
A letter was brought to the door,
It was to inform me my dearest jewel,
In this world he was no more;
The contents I scarcely could read over,
It wounded my heart in ev?ry part;
I wrung my hands crying, farewell pleasure
Death! Come, ease me of my smart.

In Bedlam now I am close confin?d,
Where my days, alas ! must end;
My senses are almost distracted,
I have lost my lover and my friend.
Oft we sat in those plesant bowers,
Reading love tales o?er and o?er,
But of those joys I am depriv?d,
He is wafted to an unknown shore.

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