%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Two proper nue Balletes. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/18/2014 32927

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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

A Thousand times I me recomeude / To you that is my louer deare Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1176 Two proper nue Balletes. Two proper nue Balletes. Two proper new Ballads. ?-?

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XML Generated Automatically at 6/18/2014 8:36:43 AM Using EMC

XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl G Stahmer.

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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 Featured 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 6/18/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America love Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/18/2014 8:36:43 AM XBallad Jaworski, Cheryl Created XML Version of Ballad 6/18/2014 8:36:43 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 8:36:43 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 8:36:43 AM Transcriptionist Two Fisher, Joshua Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 8:36:43 AM Transcriptionist One Le, Vi Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/16/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/13/2014 Checker Jeremy Chow Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/19/2012 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/16/2012 Bibliographer Olivia Miller Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 10/16/2012 Checker Olivia Miller Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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A Thousand times I me recomende To you that is my lover deare And here a letter, have I send To speke with you yet had I lever Your lustye loke and smerkyng chere My hert doth move both nyght and day In all thys world ye have no pere Therefore to my hert I do you lay. O lusty smyrker to me be true Ye have my hert forever and aye I praye you chaunge me for no newe Thys same to you do I say. I have loved truely I dare make bost And doth yet styll so god me save Alas let not my love be lost But yours agayne that I may have. The time past I do repente Yf ever ye thought I was unkinde To you this letter have I sent Because in love I am so blynd. The lynes of love do me imbrase And bytterly beyte my body with in All is for your lovely face And gentyll hert yf I myght it win. Your countenaunce and your comely cheare As oft as I loke it upon My hert in peces it doth teare When that I am my selfe alone. The paynes of love do me so pyne And perce my hert on every syde That wheresoever I suppe or dyne My hert with you shall ever abyde. Alas now be a lover true And take never from me your hert For yf ye do I must it rew And ever lyve in payne and smart. Nowe stedfast to be I do you praye My herte is closed your body within The same to me nowe do you say It is trewe love that I am in. A thousande tymes nowe fare you well Ye have my herte both nowe and aye The sorowe I byde no toung can tel Gentyll lover do not cast me awaye. My herte is locked within your brest And closly closed your body within There would I faynest take my reste In pure wedlocke with outten synne. Nowe you knowe my hole intent It doth me good when I you se Yf I get no grace I shal repent For lokyng above my pore degre Be trewe to me in this dystres And leve me not here comfortles.
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