Fair maid in bedlam, or, The deceitful Irish boy/The Fair Maid in Bedlam

THE FAIR MAID IN BEDLAM.

YOU fair maids of England and Ireland also,
Come listen a while and soon you shall know,
How I have been wounded, and in love I’ve been slain
In the strong walls of bedlam I’m forc’d to remain.

⁠When first I was courted by my love an Irish boy,
He call’d'me his jewel, his delight, and his joy;
In fair Dublin city, that place of great fame,
Where my bonny Irish-Boy first a courting to me came.

⁠He talked of love, and he promised to wed,
But in short time after he stole my maidenhead;
Believe me, dear maidens, I could not forbear,
For the loving of my Irish-Boy I do declare.

⁠Down in yon meadow I chanced for to walk,
O there I heard my lovely Irish-Boy for to talk;
Where the small birds were singing, & larks soring high,
And my pretty Boy singing with his voice melodiously.

⁠His teeth was like the iv’ry, his hair was lovely brown,
And o’er his portlie shoulders so carelessly hangs down,
Believe me dear maidens, I could not forbear,
For the loving of my Irish-Boy I do declare.

⁠He bundled up his clothes, & to England he did fly;
I bundled up my jewels, I followed him instantly;
And when I arrived in fair London town,
O; they told me he was married to a lady of renown.

⁠It’s now in bedlam, I am forced to remain,
For loving of an Irish-boy who was my darling swain;
In the west end of Bedlam she’s there to be seen,
O this poor distressed Irish Maid in Number Sixteen.