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EBBA 20173

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The Shepheards Lamentation.
To the tune of the plaine-dealing Woman.

COme Shepheards, decke your heads,
no more with bayes but willowes
Forsake your downy beds,
and make your ground your pillowes:
And mourne with me, since crost
as I, was never no man:
Nor never shepheard lo, lo, lo, lost,
so plaine a dealing woman.

All you forsaken woers.
that ever were distressed,
And all you lusty Lovers,
that ever love molested,
Your losse I must condole,
and all together summon,
To mourne for the poore so, so, soule,
of my plaine dealing woman:

Faire Venus made her chast,
and Ceres beauty gave her:
Pan wept when she was lost,
and Satyres strove to have her:
But oh she was to them
so nice, so coy, that no man,
Could judge but he knew, knew, knew,
she was plaine dealing woman,

For all her pretty parts,
I never enough shall wonder,
She overcame all hearts,
and all hearts made to wonder.
Her breath it is so sweet,
so sweet the like felt no man,
Oh, Shepheards never lo, lo, lost,
so plaine a dealing woman.

Her eyes did shine like glasse,
to grace her comely feature:
Faire Venus she did farre surpasse,
she was a comely creature.
[But] oh she was so coy,
[as] never yet was no one:
[And] Cupid that blind bo, bo, boy,
[lov'd] my plaine dealing Woman.

So beautiful was she,
in favour and in feature:
Her well shapt limbs did shew,
she was a comely creature:
What griefe was this to me,
judge all true hearted yong men:
To have so great a lo, lo, losse,
of my plaine dealing woman.

Diana faire and chast,
on her might well attend,
A Nimph she was at least,
and to Shepheards a great friend:
And oh she was so kind,
as never yet was no one,
A man could hardly fi, fi, find,
so plaine a dealing woman.

So courteous eke she was,
I and so kind to all men:
What better pleasure could you wish,
then so plaine a dealing woman:
But now alas shees gone
it makes my heart to pitty:
Oh there was never such an o, o, other wench
in Country or in Citty.

Kind Shepheards all farewell,
since death hath me ore taken:
Unto the world pray tell,
that I am quite forsaken,
And so to all adue,
goe forth I pray and summon,
The slanting crew to mourne for me,
and my plaine dealing woman.

Put on your mourning weeds,
and bring the wreath of willow:
Goe tell the world I am dead,
and make the ground my pillow.
And ring, ding dong, ding dong,
ding dong, adew,
Love, you no more so so long,
but change each day a new.

Come Shepheards leave your sighing
and wipe away your teares,
And let us fall to piping,
to drive away all cares:
For though that she be gone,
that was so faire a good one,
Yet once more may we find,
as plaine a dealing woman.

The Second Part of the Plaine dealing woman.

YE Silvan Nimphes come skip it,
and crowne your heads with Mirtle:
Yee faire Ewes come trip it,
on earths imbroydered kirtle.
And O you Driades,
which haunt the coolest Fountaines:
Come leave your silken shadie groves,
and sport it in the Mountaines.

For lo the Gods obtaine it,
that wonders shall possesse her:
And Nature did decree it,
when she with life did blesse her.
The Queene disdaind not,
faire Phillis for her feature,
For all the world containd not,
so rare a comely creature.

Diana made her chast,
and Pallas made her witty:
The Goddesse Ceres grac't
her heart with love and pitty.
The Muses did select her,
to grace their learned number:
And Venus did elect her,
the onely beautious wonder.

When Jove beheld her beauty,
his Leda did repent him:
Jove thought that in loves duty,
she onely did content him.
And Phoebus blusht to know it,
that Daphne had abus'd him,
For lo, her worth did show, that
desertles she refus'd him.

Pan was enamoured on her.
his Sirynx could not please him:

And when he lookt upon her,
her very sight did ease him:
The Satyre mournd to misse her,
whom all the world admired:
Silvanus wisht to kisse her,
whom greatest Gods desired.

Cupid his Psyche left,
to feed his eies upon her,
Of Godlike power bereft,
that her he more might honour,
His bow and shafts he gave her,
wherewith she wounds all hearts
So well she doth behave her,
like love in all his parts.

I list no more to praise her,
whom heaven and earth admire,
A loftier Muse must raise her,
whose verse can mount up higher:
A golden pen must write it,
dipt in the Muses Fountaine,
And they themselves in[d]ite it,
upon their sacred Mountaine.

Then O yee Shepheard Swaines,
with garlands deck your bonnets,
And let th'Arcadian plaines,
ring forth with Lyrick Sonets:
Come tune your rurall voyces,
to chant her matchlesse merits,
Whose faire exceeds all beauties,
the spacious world inherits.


Imprinted at London for I.W.

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