The Mother of Jealousie
The Husband's Lament, that he should part with his Wife by Reason of her
Jealousy of him.
To the Tune of Wo's my Heart that we should sinder.
When my dearest Dear did first appear,
I bless'd the time that I had found her:
Her Beauty did my Heart inchear,
But now alas we two must sinder!
Her lovely Person pierc'd my Heart,
For truly there were none beyond her.
But now great Grief doth make me smart
To think my Dear and I most sinder.
My raging Mind could never rest,
Till I in Marriage-Bonds had join'd her;
But now with Grief I'm sore opprest,
To think my Dear and I must sinder.
I lov'd her well, she lov'd me once;
But I thought still she should be kinder:
But wo be to false Jealousie,
Which makes my Dear and me to sinder!
O falsly often she judg'd me,
And all my Power could not her hinder!
But God himself doth know I'm free,
But yet alas! we two must sinder.
O wo be to that wretched Fate,
For all our Pleasures thou didst hinder,
And thou twixt us two made Debate
Which caus'd us doolfully to sinder!
So that if I'd the World wide
And all that is the Heav'ns under,
I would give all for my Abode,
But all's in vain, for we must sinder.
Alas that Nothing can prevail,
Or yet my Journey none can hinder!
This sad Parting I cannot feel,
And wo's my heart that we should sinder!
My Love to her it was most strong,
But Jealousie hath brought it under,
And in her Breast hath lurked long,
Which causeth us alas! to sinder.
For me on Earth there is no Rest,
For sad's the Gate I have to wander.
For if I stay I'm sore opprest,
And wo's my Heart that we should sinder!
My Children small me sore do grieve,
They are the Cause me long do hinder;
But yet alas! I must be gone,
I'm glad to die before we sinder.
Oh now if that my lovely Wife,
Would unto me become yet kinder
And let not Jealousie make Strife!
I think it might my Journey hinder.
Alas there is no help for me!
But from all Pleasures I must wander.
My Dear she will have no Pity,
Alas no Help but we must sinder!
Lord, be a Husband to my dear Wife,
And a Father to my Children kinder,
Than ever I could been in Life.
Farewel, my Dear, for we must sinder.
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