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EBBA 20165

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The wofull complaint, and lamentable death of a forsaken Lover.
To a pleasant new tune.

DOwne by a forrest where as I did passe,
to see that sport abroad there was,
Walking by a pleasant spring,
the Birds in sundry notes did sing.
Long time wandring here and there,
to see what sports in forrests were,
At length I heard one make great mone,
saying, From me all joyes are gone.

I gave good heed unto the same,
musing from whence this Eccho came:
But by no meanes I could devise,
from whence this sorrowfull sound did rise,
But in that place did still remaine,
untill I heard it once againe.
Then presently I heard one say,
O death, come take my life away.

I looked downe upon my right hand,
a sort of pleasant trees did stand:
And under them I did behold
a pleasant place with shadowes cold.
A sumptuous place was in the same,
musing from whence this Eccho came:
Then in that place I did perceive,
a Gentleman both fine and brave.

And from that place hee did come downe,
casting from him a mourning Gowne,
Walking up and downe the place,
me thought a proper man he was:

Thus to himselfe he did lament,
wishing to God his dayes were spent,
His torments did increase so sore,
his heart was able to beare no more:

I stept into a hollow tree,
because I would his passion see:
With folded armes looking to skies,
the teares alas stood in his eyes:
And carelesse of his life he seem'd,
pitty he was no more esteem'd:
Then downe he laid him on the ground:
no ease to sorrow can be found.

Thus he lamented in wofull case,
seven long yeeres within few dayes,
Saying, While I live, I must remaine,
I find no ease to helpe my paine:
For she that should my sorrowes remove,
she doth disdaine to be my Love,
And hath beene since that she did heare,
that I good will to her did beare.

Ye gods above come ease my paine,
sith heavy griefe doth me constraine,
For whilst my corps remaines, on earth,
shall shew the causes of my death.
Every tree that here doth stand,
shall be engraven with mine owne hand,
That they long time may witnesse beare,
Love was the cause I died here.

Nature did to her so much right,
scorning to take the helpe of Art:
And in as many vertues dight,
as ever did imbrace a heart.
Being so good, so truly tried,
O some for lesse were deifi'd,
Full of pitty as may be,
and yet perhaps not so to me.

When first I saw her pleasant face,
me thought a joyfull sight it was:
Her beauty tooke my wits away,
I knew not how one word to say,
A Gentleman tooke her to dance,
she gallantly her selfe could prance,
And kept her order in good time,
I wish to God she had beene mine.

But when I thought she had been mine owne,
then was she farthest from me flowne:
She gave no eare unto my cry,
which makes me here in sorrow die,
For she was in another mind,
which to my paine I often find,
Of all my hopes I am beguild,
which makes me walke in woods so wilde.

The second part, To the same tune.

TO silent trees I make my mone,
and birds and beasts doe heare me grone,
Yet shee that should my griefe remove,
disloyall wretch to me did prove.
My love to her was constant pure,
and to my end will so indure,
And Jove to her I hope will send
a grieved minde before her end.

I have forsaken friends and kinne,
my dayes to end these woods within,
My pleasure past I now do leave,
sweet Saviour now my soule receive.
Beare witnesse heaven of my griefe,
to ease my heart send some reliefe,
Faire Maids, unto your lovers be true,
if first be good, change not for new.

O young men all, be warn'd by me:
gaze not too much on womans beauty,
Lest that you be so fettered fast,
you cannot be enlarged at last.
Some womens wils they are well knowne,
in love oft changing sticke to none:
They'le sweare they love you with their heart,
when mind and tongue are both apart.

My love to her I did reveale,
and from her nothing did conceale,
Though at the first she seemed coy.
she said at the last, I was her joy,
And none but I her love should have,
what need I any more to crave?
But Haggard-like she me abus'd,
another chosen and I refus'd.

When he had bewail'd his sorrowes long,
hee tooke a Lute that by him hung,
And on the lute he sweetly plaid,
and unto it these words he said:
O death, when will the houre come,
that I have waited on so long?
For whilst I live I languish still,
finding no helpe to ease my ill.

Then quite he flung his lute away,
and tooke a sword that by him lay,
Sayes, Oft thou hast been thy masters friend,
and now thou shalt his torments end.
He gave true sentence in that place,
to end his life in a wofull case.
The hilt he strooke downe to the ground,
and gave himselfe a deadly wound.

Then unto him I ranne amaine,
but out alas it was all in vaine:
For long before to him I came,
his death he had upon the same.
I found his grave was ready made,
wherein I thought he should be laid.
And in that place I laid him downe,
and over spred his mourning Gowne.

Over his Grave his sword I laid,
whereon his death he had receiv'd,
Upon his Lute a peale I rung,
and by the place the same I hung.
Then I beheld on every tree,
her name that was his onely joy,
Which long before his face did stand,
because she got the [upp]er hand.

This Maid that did doe all this wrong,
to live a Maid thought it ore-long,
Married she is to such a one,
that daily makes her sigh and groane,
Her coynesse to her former Love,
disloyall then, now truely proves:
Take heed faire Maids, for you may see
wrongs alwayes will revenged be:
Thus you women will use your skill,
let us poore men say what we will.


FINIS.
Printed at London for Henry Gosson.

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