Some English men and women understood the New World to be a place of opportunity, where they could create new lives. More common, however, was the belief that the New World was a place of great danger and suffering. This song was written from the perspective of a young girl who was sent to Virginia against her will, where she faced a life of hunger and never-ending work. It was published sometime between 1689-1703.
Give ear unto a Maid,
That lately was betray’d,
And sent into Virginny O:
In brief I shall declare,
What I have suffered there,
When that I was weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
When that first I came
To this Land of Fame,
Which is called Virginny, O;
The Axe and the Hoe
Have wrought my Overthrow,
When that I was weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
Five Years served I,
Under Master Guy,
In the Land of Virginny, O:
Which made me for to know,
Sorrow, Grief, and Woe;
When that I was weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
When my Dame says, Go,
Then I must do so,
In the Land of Virginny, O;
When she sits at Meat,
Then I have none to eat,
When that I was weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
The Cloaths that I brought in,
They are worn very thin,
In the Land of Virginny, O;
Which makes me for to say,
Alas, and Well-a-day,
When that I was weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
Instead of Beds of Ease,
To lye down when I please,
In the Land of Virginny, O,
Upon a Bed of Straw,
I lay down full of Woe,
When that I was weary
weary, weary, weary, O.
Then the Spider she
Daily waits on me,
In the Land of Virginny, O;
Round about my Bed,
She spins her tender web,
When that I am weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
So soon as it is day,
To work I must away,
In the Land of Virginny, O;
Then my Dame she knocks
With her Tinder-box,
When that I am weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
I have play’d my part,
Both at Plow and at Cart,
In the Land of Virginny, O:
Billats from the Wood,
Upon my back they load,
When that I am weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
Instead of drinking Beer,
I drink the Water clear,
In the Land of Virginny, O;
Which makes me pale and wan
Do all that e’r I can,
When that I am weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
If my Dame says, Go,
I dare not say no,
In the Land of Virginny, O:
The Water from the Spring,
Upon my head I bring,
When that I am weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
When the Mill doth stand,
I’m ready at command,
In the Land of Virginny, O:
The Morter for to make,
Which made my heart to ake,
When that I am weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
When the Child doth cry,
I must sing, By a by;
In the Land of Virginny, O:
No rest that I can have,
Whilst I am here a Slave,
When that I am weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
A thousand Woes beside,
That I do here abide,
In the Land of Virginny, O:
In misery I spend
My time that hath no end,
When that I am weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
Then let Maids beware,
All by my ill-fare,
In the Land of Virgnny, O;
Be sure thou stay at home,
For if you do here come,
You will all be weary,
weary, weary, weary, O.
But if it be my chance,
Homewards to advance,
From the Land of Virginny, O;
If that I once more,
Land on English Shore,
I’ll no more be weary,
weary, weary, weary O.
Available through the English Ballad Broadside Archive, University of California at Santa BarbaraThe Trappan’d Maiden: Or the Distressed Damsel. Broadside 1689-1703 EBBA 21947 (Samuel Pepys Library, Magdalene College) 4.286.