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EBBA 22096

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
JOCKEY'S Jealousie: OR, His Rival chiefly Regarded by his Beloved Moggy.
To an excellent New Tune. Licensed according to Order.

I saw the Lass whom dear I lov'd
long sighing and complaining,
While me she slights and disapproves,
another entertaining:
Her hand and lips to him was free,
no Favour she'd refuse him;
Judge how unkind she was to me,
while she thus kindly us'd him.

His Hand her Milk-white Bubbies prest,
a bliss worth King's desiring;
A Thousand times her Cheeks he kiss'd,
her snowy Mounts admiring;
Then pleas'd to be his Charming Fair,
she to such Passion mov'd him,
She clapp'd his Cheeks, and curl'd his Hair,
to shew she well approv'd him.

Ah cruel Moggy! then I cry'd,
will not my Passion move thee?
And if my Suit must be deny'd
still give me leave to love thee,
And then frown on, and still be Coy,
your Constant Swain despising;
It is but just you should destroy
what is not worth the prizing.

Thy charming Beauty do's appear
like Phoebus in her Glory,
Thy Voice is Musick to my Ear,
at e'ery pleasant Story;
I evermore did take thy Part,
and all thy wrongs have righted;
Yet now another has thy Heart,
while I thy Love am slighted.

The killing Torment which I feel
is far beyond expressing;
First you my yielding Heart did steal,
and then deny the Blessing;

So that I find unto my Cost
no Creature more deceitfull;
He that loves best must suffer most,
because you are ungratefull.

Your Heart as hard as Marble grows,
while you Embrace a Stranger;
My Life, and Fortune you expose
unto the greatest Danger;
I strive to check the killing Pain,
and all my Passion smother,
But yet I find it is in vain,
while Moggy loves another.

Unto the World I do declare
I'd love her, and defend her,
Was she but half so kind as fair
to Jockey her pretender,
These Arms of mine should her enfold,
no one shall ne'er annoy her;
She's more to me than Crowns of Gold,
if that I could Enjoy her.

Moggy regard my wretched State,
and hear my Love sick Ditty,
Return, before it is too late,
and let me find thy pity;
Now change a Rival for a Love,
which never will deceive thee,
But evermore will Loyal prove,
and in my Arms receive thee.

But if you still will Tyrannize,
and not regard you Duty,
When I shall fall a Sacrafice
unto your killing Beauty,
Then will your Sighs be all in vain,
when I in Grave lye sleeping,
You cannot call me back again,
dear Moggy, then with weeping.


Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back.

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