Close ×

Search EBBA

EBBA 22180

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
Constancy Lamented:
OR, A
Warning for Unkind Parents,
Not [t]o seperate those who are joyned in Love:
Being a full and true Account of a Wealthy Tradesman's Son in the Strand, who died
on Friday last, for the Grief he conceived in the Absence of his dearly beloved E.
H --- k. (a Hereford-shire Damsel) who was by his Hard-hearted Mother, sold to
Virginia; and of the many Arguments the Mother used to perswade this Young-
Man to fix his love on some more Wealthy Maiden: With the Mothers sad lamen-
tation, and almost Raving Distraction for her Son's Death, and her own most Un-
worthy Action.
The whole Published from the Relation of a Worthy young Gentlewoman, a daily Visi-
tant of the said young Man's, and a sorrowful mourner for his great mishap.
To the Tune of, All happy times, etc. Or, Languishing Swain.

ALas! my dearest Dear is gone,
And I am left to sigh and moan,
To weep and wail, to sigh & cry,
O Betty, Betty, I must die.

There is no pleasure I can find,
Now she is gone: Perplex'd in mind
I'm rowling on my love-sick bed;
The thoughts of her does strike me dead.

Physicians they do come to try
Their Doses with great industry:
But I tell 'em all it is in vain,
Since Betty's sailing on the main.

Nought in the world but sweet Betty,
Can ease my mind, or set me free
From those distractions which I bear,
Her absence for my heart doth tear.

There is no pleasure, O my Dear,
That I can find, no comfort here!
But 'frightened Dreams do me surprize,
When that dull sleep has shut my eyes,

Methinks, my dearest Dear, I see
What cruel Frights attendeth thee:
How that thou too and fro art tost,
And in great Hazards to be lost.

O cruel Mother, and Unkind,
Which brought this grief unto my mind,
By banishing my dearest Joy,
'Tis only this doth me destroy!

Why shoul'st thou love, his mother said
A silly poor and serving maid,
Whose birth is of some mean degree,
Which would bring Scandals unto me.

Behold, my Son, there's Virgins store,
Most beautiful, and yet not poor;
Of birth and breeding most compleat:
My Son, it's these will make thee great.

I'd rather surely see thee dead,
Then that thou should'st my Servant wed,
To make her equal unto me,
Whose birth is of some poor degree.

Wealth! birth! (the Young-man cries)
Alas, alas, are foolish Toys:
They do indeed perplex the mind,
True Love alone doth comfort find.

O cruel mother hear I pray,
And listen unto what I say;
For your desire you'll surely have
To lay me in the silent Grave:

For why, I feel now at my heart,
Such cruel pain, such bitter smart
That long I'm sure I cannot bear
Such cruel Tortures as they are.

O Neptune, let me thee implore
To guard my Love safe to the shore:
And tho' I never must her see,
Heavens grant her Felicity.

And now, Farewel Mother unkind,
You have ruined body and mind;
For to this world I bid adieu
And Dying cry, 'Tis long of you.

But when his mother she did see
That he was dead assuredly,
Like one distracted she did run.
Still crying, O my Son, my Son.

For thee, alas, my heart doth bleed,
Accursed be my wretched Deed:
Could I but have thy life again,
I'd send for Betty o'er the Main.

Therefore you Parents everywhere,
Whose chance it is these lines to hear,
Do not contend against True Love,
For fear you such like Tryals prove.


London, Printed for Charles Barnet.

View Raw XML