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EBBA 21362

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The woful complaint, and lamentable death
of a Forsaken Lover. To a pleasant New Tune.

DOwn by a Forrest as I did pass,
To see abroad what sports there was,
Walking by a pleasant Spring,
The Birds in sundry notes did sing.

Long time I wandred here and there,
To see what Sports in Forrest were;
At length I heard one make great moan,
Saying, from me all joys are gone.

I gave good heed unto the same,
Musing from whence this Eccho came;
And by no means I could devise
From whence this sorrowful sound did rise.

But in that place I did remain,
Until I heard it once again;
Where presently I heard one say,
O Death, come take my life away:

I looked down on my right hand,
A sort of pleasant trees did stand;
And under them I did behold
A pleasant place, with shaddows cold:

A sumptuous Seat was in the same,
Musing from whence this Eccho came:
Then in this place I did perceive
A Gentleman most fine and brave;

And from that place he did come down,
Casting from him his Morning-Gown;
Walking up and down that place,
Methoughts a proper man he was.

Thus to himself he did lament,
Wishing to God his days were spent;
His torments did increase so sore,
His heart was able to bear no more:

I stept into a hollow tree,
Because I would his passion see;
With folded arms, looking to' th' Skies,
The tears, alas, stood in his Eyes.

And careless of his Life, he seem'd,
Pitty he was no more esteem'd;
Then down he lay upon the ground;
No ease of sorrow could be found.

Thus he lamented in woful case,
Seven long years, within few days;
Saying, while I live, I must remain,
And find no help to ease my pain.

For she that should my sorrows remove,
She doth disdain to be my Love;
And hath done so, since she did hear
That I to her good will did bear;

Ye gods above come ease my pain,
Sith heavy grief-doth it constrain;
For while my Corps remain on Earth,
She'll shew the causes of my Death;

And every tree that here doth stand,
Shall be ingraven with my hand,
That they long time may Witness bear
Love was the cause that I dy'd here.

Nature to her did so much right,
And in as many Vertues dight,
Scorning to take the help of art,
As ever did embrace a Heart.

Being so good, so truly try'd,
O some for less were Deify'd;
Full of pitty as she may be,
And yet perhaps not so to me;

When first I saw her pleasant face,
Methought a pleasant sight it was;
Her Beauty took my Wits away,
I knew not how one word to say.

A Gentleman took her to Dance,
She gallantly her self did prance;
And kept her steps all in due time,
Which made me wish she had been mine.

But when I thought she had bin mine own
Then was she farthest from me flown;
She gave no ear unto my cry,
Which makes me here in sorrow dye

FOr she then in another mind,
Which to my pain I often find;
Of all hopes I am beguil'd,
Which makes me walk the woods so wild.

To silent tries I made my moan,
The birds and beasts did hear me groan;
Yet she that could my sorrows remove,
Disloyal wretch to me did prove:

My love to her was constant pure,
And to my end shall so endure;
And Jove to her I hope will send,
A grieved mind before her end:

I have forsaken Friends and Kin,
My days to end these Woods within;
My pleasure past I now do leave
Sweet Saviour Christ my Soul receive.

Bear Witness, Heaven, of my grief,
To ease my heart, send some relief;
Fair maids, unto you Loves be true,
If the first be good, change not for a new.

O young-men all be warn'd by me,
Gaze not too much on Womens beauty;
Lest that you be so fettered fast,
You cannot be releast at last.

Some womens wiles are too much known
In love once changing, stick to none;
They'l swear they love with their heart
When tongue and mind are both apart.

My love to her I did reveal,
And nothing from her did conceal;
Though at first she seemed coy,
She said I was her only joy;

And none but I her love should have,
What need I any more to crave?
But Hoggard-like, she me abus'd,
Another taken, and I refus'd.

When he had bewail'd his sorrows long,
He took his Lute that by him hung;

And on the same he sweetly play'd
While thereupon these Words he said;

O Death, when will that hour come,
That I have waited for so long?
For while I live I languish still,
Finding no help to ease my will.

Then quite he flung his Lute away,
And took his Sword that by him lay,
Says, oft hast thou been-thy masters friend
And now thou must his torment end.

He gave true Sentence in that place,
To end his life in woful case,
The Hilt he stuck into the Ground,
And gave himself a deadly wound.

Then unto him I ran amain,
But O, alas, it was in vain:
For long before to him I came,
His Death he had upon the same:

I found dis Grave was ready made,
Wherein I thought he should be laid;
And in that place I laid him down,
And over-spread his morning-Gown.

Over his Grave his Sword I laid,
Whereby his death he had receiv'd;
Upon his Lute a Peal I Rung,
And by the place his Lute I hung;

Then I beheld on every tree
Her name that was his only joy;
Which long before his face did stand,
Because she got the upper-hand.

This Maiden that did all this wrong,
to live a Maid thought it o'[r]e long;
But married was to such a one,
As dayly made her sigh and groan:

Her coyness to her former love,
Disloyal now doth truly prove;
take hee, fair Maidens, for you see
Wrongs always will Revenged be.


Printed for [J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, . .]

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