Who liv’d in Cow-cross near West-Smithfield; who changing her Apparrel, entered her self on Board in Quality of a Soldier, and sailed to Ireland, where she Valiantly behaved her self, particularly at the Siege of Cork, where she lost her Toes, and received a Mortal Wound in her Body, of which she since Died in her return to London.
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LEt the Females attend,
To the Lines which are penn’d,
For here I shall give a Relation;
Of a Young marry’d Wife,
Who did venture her Life,
For a Soldier, a Soldier she went from the Nation.
She her Husband did leave,
And did likewise receive
Her Arms, and on Board she did enter;
And right valiantly went,
With a Resolution bent,
To the Ocean, the Ocean her Life there to venture.
Yet of all the Ships Crew,
Not a Seaman that knew,
They then had a Woman so near ’em;
On the Ocean so deep,
She her Council did keep,
Ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did fear ’em.
She was valiant and bold,
And would not be controul’d,
By any that dare to offend her;
If a Quarrel arose,
She would give him dry Blows,
And the Captain, the Captain did highly commend her.
For he took her to be,
Then of no mean Degree,
A Gentleman’s Son or a ’Squire;
With a Hand white and fair,
There was none could compare,
Which the Captain, the Captain did often admire.
On the Irish Shore,
Where the Cannons did roar,
With many stout Lads she was landed;
There her Life to expose,
She lost two of her Toes,
And in Battle, in Battle was daily commended.
Under Grafton she fought,
Like a brave Hero stout,
And made the proud Tories retire;
She in Field did appear,
With a Heart void of Fear,
And she bravely, she bravely did charge and give fire.
While the battering Balls,
Did assault the strong Walls,
Of Cork and the sweet Trumpets sounded;
She did bravely advance,
Where by unhappy Chance,
This young Female, young Female alass she was wounded.
At the End of the Fray,
Still she languishing lay,
Then over the Ocean they brought her;
To her own Native Shore,
Now they ne’er knew before,
That a Woman, a Woman had been in that Slaughter.
What she long had conceal’d,
Now at length she reveal’d,
That she was a Woman that ventur’d;
Then to London with care,
She did straitways repair,
But she dy’d, oh she dy’d e’er the City she enter’d.
When her Parents beheld,
They with Sorrow was fill’d,
For why they did dearly adore her:
In her Grave now she lies,
’Tis not watery Eyes,
No nor Sighing, nor Sighing that e’er can restore her.
A Medly, Compos’d out of several SONGS.
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