Transcribed from a Bodleian Library broadside, catalog no. Harding B 25(164):

THE BELFAST MAID'S LAMENTATION

Come all you pretty fair maids, a warning take by me,
And let not love affect you in any degree;
For I was crossed in love, and love it was my pain,
And by a handsome young man that crossed over the main.

O that I was a little bird, or had I wings to fly,
To the field of battle on my love I would lie;
With my little fluttering wings his wounds to clean
And on his lovely bosom I would still remain.

Ye lovers all take pity on a poor distressèd maid,
Who was by love affected, by Cupid was betrayed;
Ye gods above, assist me the burning flame to quench.
I'm wounded by a young man that's gone to fight the French.

His lips are like the coral. His cheeks as red as rose.
His skin as white as lily. His eyes as black as sloes.
He's proper, tall, and handsome, in every degree.
He crossed the wide ocean to face his enemy.

If by the cruel French my darling should be slain,
For ever single for his sake for ever I'd remain.
I'll never give my hand to another man,
Until I see my jewel in his own native land.

He says to me, "My jewel, come, go along with me
As we are both young and ***, and I from trouble free.
While you are with me, no danger will I fear.
I hear the trumpet battle (?), so fare you well, my dear."