Whores of Edinburgh's
FOR WANT OF LUCKIE SPENCE
TWice Sixteen Years hath over past,
Once sixteen more may prove our last,
Our Tender Years in Lucky's service spent,
So pleasantly we can scarce Repent,
But new she's Dead, we shall for ever Groan,
And her sad Fate shall be just cause to moan,
How Tedious now out Lives are grown,
The way to Death how hard and long,
How Dark the Dungon, the Irons how strong,
Which may our undanted Souls keep down,
Be Stoop'd O! Abby, hing thy drowping Head,
For Spence thy be! Bankrupt now Is Dead.
May that Hour pass,and it's hasty Flight,
Be still Retarded by the Slugish Night.
As then it was when Luckie did Depart,
Then Dismal were we, saw no Joys,
No cheerful shouts, but a Dismal Noise,
Of Groans and Sighs when her parting Soul
Tryed in vain her desteny to Controll,
Oh' had it never been, nor had that Hour
But Barr'd the Gate, and Dem'd the Fatal DOU[ ],
Oh! unhappy Gate, but more unhappy Hour,
But stay my Muse her Fun'ral to survey,
And all there Rits perform'd do display,
Luckie's best Friends who to her used to go,
All as they went their joint Tears did bestow,
There were of them who clam'd a share,
By Luckies Friendship in the pious Care,
Were all the Company they who alone.
Knew and Judged each Sorrows by their own,
For we still restless and mournful grew,
And every Day our griefs renew.
LUCKIE'S LAST WORDS
IS this thy fight O! Deith, is this the way?
I must return to Dust there's no Delay,
Revoluing thy sharp Senance past,
How soon have I Approacht my last,
An End e're thought on is on me come,
Unawars reacht Natures farest home.
Ah! now I to the Grave must go,
No more of Life, nor of it's pleasurs know.
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Probable date published:
1718 shelfmark: Ry.III.c.36(136)
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