A Lover forsaken of his Love.
To a new Court tune.
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JOy to the person of my Love,
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Although that she doth me disdaine,
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Fixt are my thoughts,
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And cannot remove;
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But yet I love in vaine.
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Shall I lose the sight
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Of my joy and hearts delight,
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Or shall I cease my sute,
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Shall I strive to touch?
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Oh no, that were too much,
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She is forbidden fruit.
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Ah woe is me,
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That ever I did see
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The beauty that did me bewitch,
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But now alas I must forgoe
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The treasure I esteemd so much.
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Oh whither shall my sad heart goe,
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Or whither shall I flye?
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Sad eccho shall resound my plaint,
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Or else alacke I needs must dye.
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Shall I by her live,
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That no life to me will give,
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But deadly wounds my heart?
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If I flie away,
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Oh will she not cry stay,
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My sorrowes to connect?
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Oh no, no, no,
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She will not doe so,
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But comfortlesse I must be gone:
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But ere I goe
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To friend or foe,
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Ile love her, or I will love none.
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A thousad good fortunes fall to her share,
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Although she hath forsaken me,
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& filld my sad heart full of despaire,
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Yet ever will I constant be:
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For she is the Dame
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My tongue shall ever name,
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For branch of modesty,
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Chast in heart and mind,
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Oh were she halfe so kind,
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Then would she pitty me.
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Oh turne againe,
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Be kind as thou art faire,
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And let me in thy bosome dwell,
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So shall I gaine,
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The treasuer of loves paine:
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Till then, my dearest Love, farewell.
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