%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Green-sickness grief, Or a Maidens moan, / Complaining because her Sweet-heart was gone. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1663-1663 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 03/05/2012 31833

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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

R214028 COme, come my sweet and bonny one / thou hast my heart in hold, MY only dear, for whose sweet sake, / I now am home return'd; O both night and day, / I wast away, / Wanting my wish at will. Therefore Ile love thee still. [with variation] Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 125 The Green-sickness grief, Or a Maidens moan, / Complaining because her Sweet-heart was gone. The Green-sickness grief, Or a Maidens moan, Complaining because her Sweet-heart was gone. The Green sickness grief, Or a Maiden's moan, Complaining because her Sweetheart was gone. Printer E.C. 1663-1663 F. Coles. T. Vere. and J. Wright

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas 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 groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 3/5/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America animals/ nature love maritime military/ war mythology/ Classical Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 3/5/2012 2:54:21 PM XBallad Becker, Charlotte Created XML Version of Ballad 3/5/2012 2:54:21 PM Transcription Supervisor Murphy, Jessica Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/5/2012 2:54:21 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Andrews, B. Sharkey Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/5/2012 2:54:21 PM Transcriptionist Two Naler, Erin Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/5/2012 2:54:21 PM Transcriptionist One Jiminez-Justiniano, Jose Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/5/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/28/2012 Transcriber Jiminez-Justiniano, Jose Created Ballad XML 2/28/2012 Transcriber Reese, Ryan Created Ballad XML 2/28/2012 Double-Key Transcription Merger Andrews, B. Sharkey Created Ballad XML 2/28/2012 Transcription Supervisor Murphy, Jessica Created Ballad XML 2/28/2012 XBallad Halsey, Nicholas Created Ballad XML 2/20/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/20/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/2/2011 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 2/19/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/22/2011 Checker Megan Palmer Browne Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Green-sickness grief, Or a Maidens moan,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Complaining because her Sweet-heart was gone.</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="indent"><hi rend="italic">To a pleasant new Tune.</hi></seg>
COme, come my sweet and bonny one thou hast my heart in hold, Thou makst me sigh when I should sing and sweat when I am a cold, Thou makst me weep, When I should sleep, My Bed with tears I fill; O both night and day, I wast away, Wanting my wish at will. Every Bird can chuse her Mate, the Ant can do the same. Both Fish and Foul their pleasure take, and follow after Game: Whilst I alone, Poore silly one, My loathed life do spill. O both night, etc. Sometimes I dream I see my Love, and fold him in my arms, But when I awake I am deceivd, which breeds me miclke harme; Such pains I bear, As able were, A silly soul to kill. O both night, etc. Would Jove my Bed stood in the place, where my True-love doth rest, Then would I fold within my arms, the man whome I love best.
But he is gone, From me alone, Which now my heart doth kill. O both night, etc. Though thou art gone from me my Love and bad not me farewell, Yet will I pray for thy return, till thou comst here to dwell. Pray God thee keep, From dangers deep, Defend thee from all ill. O both night, etc. And so farewell my own true Love, since twill no better be, That you and I must needs depart, their is no remedy. Ile pray that thee, Full safe may be Still guarded from all ill. O both night, etc. The Ship that my true Love sails in is made of Oken wood, As good a Ship as ever saild upon the Ocean-flood: From Sands and Rocks, And Pyrats knocks, Sweet Jove defend him still. O both night and day, I wast away, Wanting my wish at will. The Green-sickness grief: Or, The Sailors new comming to his dearest Sweeting, Shewing what joy they receivd at their meeting.
MY only dear, for whose sweet sake, I now am home returnd; Cheer up thy self, and weep no more, thou lookst as thou hadst mournd: My going was, Sweet-heart alas, To prove thy constant will. And thou my Love, Do constant preve, Therefore Ile love thee still. When I on Neptunes surly waves was tossed too and fro, Then I remembred thee my love, which did increase my wo; That I should go, To hazard so, My love and life to spill. But now I am here, My only Dear, I will stay with thee still. Leander like I would have sworn a Hellespont for thee: Now like Ulisses I will prove, unto his Penelopee. Before I part, From thee sweet-heart, Death with his Dart shall kill, And steal my breath, For untill death, Thou hast my heart at will.
When sable night, the time of sleep, to each eye did appear, Thy absence then struck me so deep, the weight I scarce could bear, And to unbind, My troubled mind, I come Love with good will, To live with thee, Is best for me; And I will love the still. The cause that might induce me toot was as I then did hear. That thou all comfort did refuse, cause thou hadst lost thy Dear: But now I find, Thee true and kind, To thee I will be still The same for aye, At each assay, Ile keep thee from all ill. Sweet Mate now let us joyfully go unto Church with speed, If thoult Leander prove my Love, Hero Ile be to thee; I do rejoyce, To see my choyce, Contrary bent to ill; Sith it is so, Come let us go, Our Marriage to fullfill.
FINIS. London, Printed by E.C. for F. Coles. T. Vere. and J. Wright.