A recent post to another thread on this song reminded me that I now have the broadside text from which the chapbook text I quoted earlier presumably derived. It is transcribed from the facsimile image in W. G. Day (ed), Catalogue of the Pepys Library at Magdalene College, Cambridge: The Pepys Ballads, Cambridge 1987, Vol 4, 72. The sheet is undated, but the combination of publishers' names would indicate that it was printed somewhere between 1683 and 1696.


The Unnatural Mother: or, The Two Loyal Lovers' Fatal Overthrow.

The Mother she would not agree,
he could her Daughter have;
So they did part, she broke her heart,
her Portion was the Grave.

Licensed according to Order.

To an Excellent New Tune.


When first of all I began for to Wooe,
I loved a Bonny Lass as my Life,
And every day I did kindness show,
yet ne'er could obtain her to be my Wife.

I served her Father for seven long years,
I served her Father right faithfully,
From morning till noon and from noon till night
and all to enjoy her good company.

My service and labour I counted as play,
for had it been twenty long years and more,
I'd think it as short as a Winter's day,
enjoying my love whom I did adore

To her I did often reveal my Love,
she gave me her hand, with her heart and all,
And proved as true as the tender Dove,
I cannot complain of my Love at all.

As soon as her Parents did understand
that I to their Daughter did bear good will,
They studied to ruine us out of hand,
and this is the cause of my sorrow still.

I talk'd with her Mother right secretly,
but I had no sooner declar'd my mind,
But she lock'd her up in a Chamber high,
and made her a Prisoner close confin'd.

Then under her Window with Musick sweet,
and many sweet Sonnets I'd serenade;
There I with my amorous Love did meet,
until at the length we were both b[e]tray'd.

For when her own Mother at length did hear,
that under her Window I often came,
She Tyrant-like was the more severe,
no Mother was ever so much to blame.

Her innocent Daughter she took straightway,
and bound her with Chains in a Dungeon deep;
Not suffereing her to behold the day,
but there she in sorrow did sigh and weep.

Her Mother afforded her no relief,
but let her in showers of Tears lament,
My heart it was ready to break with Grief,
to think of the Torments she underwent.

I being surrounded with Grief and Woe,
to think of my true Love's misery;
A Soldier to Flanders I streight did go,
I valu'd not what would become of me.

And while in brave Flanders I did remain,
and youthful young Lasses appeared in view;
The thoughts of my Love did increase my pain,
and likewise my sorrow and grief renew.

Then I took my Musket all in my hand,
and cock'd and prim'd it immediately,
And shot a Bullet towards fair England,
the place where my Heart and my Love did lye.

Soon after I crossed the Ocean main,
unto the fair Banks of the English Shore,
In order to see my true Love again,
for whom I had many Months grieved sore.

My Heart was Streightways as heavy as Lead,
as soon as her cFather and Mother I see,
Who told me their Daughter dear, she was dead,
who broke her Heart for the Love of me.

Oh then I was almost in despair,
there Tydings did streightways my Soul surprize
I beat my Breast and tore my Hair,
while Tears they did trickle down from my Eyes.

My sorrowful ruine do's now appear,
unnatural Parents, I well may say
For why, you have Murder'd your Darling [...]
which might have liv'd many a happy day.

My Pillow with sorrowful Tears I soak,
without her I can never happy be;
Farewel to the World, now my Heart is broke,
my Dear, I'll lye down in the Grave with thee.


Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and J. Back.