%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Mournful Shepherd: / OR, / The Torment of Loving, and not being Lov'd again. / A SONG made by a Gentleman who Dyed for his cruel Mistris. / No Torment can be found, no greater pain / Then truly Loving and not Lov'd again; / For thats a strange Disease which Racks the mind, / Still routs the Judgement, and does Reason blind: / Raises a Civil VVar, distracts the Soul, / VVhilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roul: / The Lovers dreams of nothing but strange Charms, / And often thinks his Mistris in his Arms; / But waking finds he did embrace a Shade; / VVhich all his hopes with it he had Convey'd. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1672-1672 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/19/2011 31362

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R229082 5 UNKNOWN UNKNOWN a Pleasant New Tune UNKNOWN A Pleasant New Tune Cou'd Man his VVish Obtain, etc. Could Man His Wish Obtain Could Man His Wish Obtain, Etc. the same Tune UNKNOWN The Same Tune COuld man his wish obtain, / how happy would he be; But pitty I implore. / O let some pitty move: Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 4: 63 The Mournful Shepherd: / OR, / The Torment of Loving, and not being Lov'd again. / A SONG made by a Gentleman who Dyed for his cruel Mistris. / No Torment can be found, no greater pain / Then truly Loving and not Lov'd again; / For thats a strange Disease which Racks the mind, / Still routs the Judgement, and does Reason blind: / Raises a Civil VVar, distracts the Soul, / VVhilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roul: / The Lovers dreams of nothing but strange Charms, / And often thinks his Mistris in his Arms; / But waking finds he did embrace a Shade; / VVhich all his hopes with it he had Convey'd. The Mournful Shepherd: OR, The Torment of Loving, and not being Lov’d again. A SONG made by a Gentleman who Dyed for his cruel Mistris. No Torment can be found, no greater pain Then truly Loving and not Lov’d again; For thats a strange Diseise which Racks the mind, Still routs the Judgement, and does Reason blind: Raises a Civil War, distracts the Soul, Whilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roul: The Lovers dreams of nothing but strange Charms, And often thinks his Mistris in his Arms; But waking finds he did embrace a Shade; Which all his hopes with it he had Convey’d. The Mournful Shepherd: OR, The Torment of Loving, and not being Loved again. A SONG made by a Gentleman who Dyed for his cruel Mistress. No Torment can be found, no greater pain Then truly Loving and not Loved again; For that's a strange Disease which Racks the mind, Still routs the Judgment, and does Reason blind: Raises a Civil War, distracts the Soul, Whilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roll: The Lovers dreams of nothing but strange Charms, And often thinks his Mistress in his Arms; But waking finds he did embrace a Shade; Which all his hopes with it he had Conveyed. 1672-1672 P. Brooksby

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious types & sects royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic The New World travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgarities/ crass humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 4/19/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America affliction/ health death love mythology/ Classical Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/19/2011 11:22:20 AM XBallad Meyer, Shannon Created XML Version of Ballad 4/19/2011 11:22:20 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/19/2011 11:22:20 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/19/2011 11:22:20 AM Transcriptionist Two Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/19/2011 11:22:20 AM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/27/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/5/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/8/2011 Checker Victoria Hernandez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/2/2009 Bibliographer Eric Nebeker Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Mournful Shepherd:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left">The Torment of Loving, and not being Lovd again.</seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A SONG made by a Gentleman who Dyed for his cruel Mistris.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">No Torment can be found, no greater pain</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Then truly Loving and not Lovd again;</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">For thats a strange Diseise which Racks the mind,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Still routs the Judgement, and does Reason blind:</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Raises a Civil War, distracts the Soul,</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="10" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Whilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roul:</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="11" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">The Lovers dreams of nothing but strange Charms,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="12" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">And often thinks his Mistris in his Arms;</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="13" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">But waking finds he did embrace a Shade;</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="14" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Which all his hopes with it he had Conveyd.</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="15" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To a Pleasant New Tune, called, <hi rend="bold">Coud Man his Wish Obtain,</hi> etc.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="16" rend="left">Playd and Sung at the Kings <hi rend="italic">Play-House.</hi></seg>
COuld Man his wish obtain, how happy would he be; But wishes seldom gain, And hopes are but in vain, if Fortune disagree: Pitty you Powers of Love, Our Infilicity
Why should the Fates Conspire, To frustrate my Desire, Since Loves the gentle fire that keeps the World alive: But me it puts to pain, My Wishes are in vain, Nor promise any hope to gain. I love and still I view, but dare not tell my mind, Should I my flames pursue, I might that Bliss undo, which is for her designd: A Bliss thats far above, more lasting, rich, and kind; Though hopes succesless prove, My heart shall ner remove, From wishing of her Love, in Fortunes Triumph led; And though she banish me, If she but happy be, twill please my Ghost when I am dead Much like a Tyrant sits th insulting Prince of Love, And with his Arrows hits Poor Mortals as it fits, his humour from above;
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Second Part, To the same Tune.</hi></seg>
But pitty I implore. O let some pitty move: But ah, what is my Error, when love thus proves a Terror, That is the worlds bright Mirror, and guides the Starry frame: The flame thats in my breast, Alas disturbs my rest, Since I of hopes am dispossest. Thou Center of my joy, the fairest of her kind, Does still with frowns destroy, My Bliss by proving Coy, whilst Love torments my mind; And scorches me in pain, that I no quiet find: Pitty some gentle power, And rain a Golden Shower, For sure nought else can wooe her to cool my raging Flame: Alas, that Gold should prove The Orb that still does move the happy Sphere of sacred love.
Ore Hills and Rocks I stray, through fields and gloomy shade, I take my restless way, To Venus oft I pray, to grant me speedy aid, And pitty my distress, or how the cruel Maid: Whose eyes do Lightning bear, Which blast me with despair, And takes me in Loves snare, nor can I thence escape: But struggle there in vain, And still does suffer pain, Whilst I to free my self do strain. Witness ye Founts and Springs, Groves, and each pleasant Mead, Each warbling Bird that sings, And spreads his airy wings; and bleeting flocks that feed: How cruel the fair Nymph to me has ever been: But Tyrant love no more, To persecute give ore, Keep, keep your shafts in store, of them there is no need: For like the Swan, now I, To sing my last leave try, Which done, I thus lye down & dye. He Dies
FINIS. Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Sign of the Golden-Ball, near the Hospital-gate, in West- Smithfield.