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THE TOWN MISS.
TUNE—MY FOND SHEPHERDS OF LATE.
MARIA my beautiful maid,
let the bulwark of Virtue appear,
Shun the crafty and treacherous blade,
who ſtrives for to ruin each fair:
When a woman but one thing doth grant,
what then my dear can ſhe deny?
O nothing, no nothing the tyrant doth want,
but readily ſhe muſt comply.
Though many exclaim 'gainſt the fair,
that they firſt their ruin began,
The truth it doth plainly appear,
thoſe girls were firſt ruin'd by man,
By flatteries the damſel complies,
with a promiſe of marriage conſents,
While the traitor the traitor triumphs o'er the prize,
and the fond fair too late ſhe repents.
Then the tyrant he does her compel,
his luſt at all ſeaſons to ſerve,
If marriage ſhe mentions, he'll tell,
a huſband ſhe ne'er can deſerve,
For modeſty's bounds ſhe has paſs'd,
no miſtreſs ſhall e'er be his wife,
On the town, on the town, then her lot it is caſt,
in a Bagnio ſhe endeth her life.
GLASGOW,
Printed by J. and M. Robertſon, Saltmarket, 1802
