Close ×

Search EBBA

EBBA 32015

University of Glasgow Library - Euing
Ballad XSLT Template
The Woful Complaint, and Lamentable Death of
a forsaken Lover. To a pleasant new Tune.

DOwn by a Forrest where I did pass,
To see abroad what sports there was,
Walking by a pleasant spring,
The birds in sundry notes did sing,
Long time I wandred here and there,
To see what sports in Forrest were,
At length I heard one make great moan,
Saying from me all joys are gone.
I gave good heed unto the same,
Musing from whence this eccho came,
And by no means I could devise,
From whence this sorrowful sound did rise;
But in that place I did remain,
Until I heard it once again.
Where presently I heard one say,
O death come take my life away.
I looked down on my right hand,
A sort of pleasant trees did stand,
And under them I did behold,
A pleasant place with shadows cold:
A sumptuous seat was in the same,
Musing from whence this eccho came:
Then in this place I did perceive
A Gentleman most fine and brave.
And from that place he did come down,
Casting from him his morning Gown,
Walking up and down that place,
Methought a proper man he was.

Thus to himself he did lament,
Wishing to God his days were spent,
His torment did increase so sore,
His heart was able to bare no more.
I stept into a hollow tree,
Because I would his passion see:
With folded arms looking to th skies,
The tears alas stood in his eyes:
And careless of his life he seemd,
Pitty he was no more esteemd:
Then down he lay upon the ground,
No ease of sorrow could be found.
Thus he lamented in woful case,
Seven long years within few day,
Saying, while I live I must remain,
And find no help to ease my pain:
For she that should my sorrows remove,
She doth disdain to be my Love,
And hath done so since she did hear,
That I to her good will did bare.
Ye Gods above come ease my pain,
Sith heavy grief doth it constrain,
For while my corps remain on earth,
Shel shew the causes of my death:
And every tree that here doth stand,
Shall be engraven with mine hand:
That they long time may witness bare,
Love was the cause that I dyd here.
Nature to her did so much right,
And in as many vertues dight,
Scorning to take the help of Art,
As ever did imbrace a heart:
Being so good, so truly tryd,
O some for less were deifid:
Full of pitty as she may be,
And yet perhaps not so to me.
When first I saw her pleasant face,
Methought a pleasant sight it was:
Her beauty took my wits away,
I knew not how one word to say:
A Gentleman took her to dance,
She gallantly herself did prance,
And kept her order in due time,
Which made me wish she had been mine:
But when I thought she had been my own,
Then was she farthest from me flown,
She gave no ear unto my cry,
Which makes me here in sorrow dye.

FOr she was in another mind,
Which to my pain I often find,
Of all my hopes I am beguild,
Which makes me range the wood so wild.
To silent trees I made my moan,
And birds and beasts did hear me groan,
Yet she that could my sorrows remove,
Disloyal wretch to me doth prove:
My love to her was constant pure,
And to my end shall so endure;
And Jove to her I hope will send
A grieved mind before her end.
I have forsaken friends and kin,
My days to end these woods within,
My pleasures past I now do leave,
Tweet Saviour Christ my soul receive:
Bear witness heaven of my grief,
To ease my heart send some relief.
Fair Maids unto your Loves be true,
If the first be good, change not for new.
O young men all be warnd by me,
Gaze not too much on womens beauty,
Lest that you be so fettered fast,
You cannot be releast at last:
Some womens wiles are too well known,
In Love oft changing stick to none,
theyl swear they love you with their heart
When tongue and mind are both apart.
My love to her I did reveal,
And from her nothing did conceal,
Though at the first she seemed coy,
She said at last I was her joy:
And none but I her love should have,
What need I any more to crave:
But Hoggard like she me abus[]d,
Another taken, and I refusd.
When he had bewaild his sorrows long,
He took his Lute that by him hung,

And on the same he sweetly plaid,
While thereupon these words he said:
O Death when will that hour come,
That I have waited for so long?
For while I live I languish still,
Finding no help to ease my ill.
Then quite he flung his Lute away,
And took his sword that by him lay:
Says, oft thou hast been thy Masters friend
And now thou must his torments end.
He gave true sentance in that place,
To end his life in woful case:
The Hilt he stuck into the ground,
And gave himself a deadly wound,
Then unto him I ran amain,
But O alas it was in vain,
For long before to him I came,
His death he had upon the same.
I found his grave was ready made,
Wherein I thought he should be laid,
And in that place I laid him down,
And over-spread his morning Gown:
Over his Grave his sword I laid,
Whereby his death he had receivd,
Upon his Lute a peal I rung,
And by the place his Lute I hung,
Then I beheld on every Tree,
Her name that was his only joy;
Which long before his face did stand,
Because she got the upper hand.
This Maid that did do all this wrong,
To live a Maid thought it ore long,
But married was to such a one,
As daily made her sigh and groan:
Her coyness to her former Love,
Disloyal now doth truly prove:
Take heed fair Maidens for you see
Wrongs always will revenged be.

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright.

View Raw XML