%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A / Pastoral Dialogue / BETWEEN / ALEXIS and STREPHON, / Written by the Right Honourable, / The Late Earl of Rochester, / At the BATH, 1674. Wilmot, John 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 06/24/2014 33781

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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

R182835 THere sighs not on the Plain / So lost a Swain as I; Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1119 A / Pastoral Dialogue / BETWEEN / ALEXIS and STREPHON, / Written by the Right Honourable, / The Late Earl of Rochester, / At the BATH, 1674. A Pastoral Dialogue BETWEEN ALEXIS and STREPHON, Written by the Right Honorable, The Late Earl of Rochester, At the BATH, 1674. Wilmot, John ?-? Benj. Billingsley

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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 6/24/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America affliction/ health love rural life Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/24/2014 4:48:54 PM XBallad Bell, Erik Created XML Version of Ballad 6/24/2014 4:48:54 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2014 4:48:54 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Doran, Thomas Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2014 4:48:54 PM Transcriptionist Two Jaworski, Cheryl Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2014 4:48:54 PM Transcriptionist One Gutierrez-Jones, Natalia Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/12/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/21/2012 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/19/2012 Bibliographer Olivia Miller Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 11/19/2012 Checker Olivia Miller Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/21/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/21/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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I. Alex. THere sighs not on the Plain So lost a Swain as I; Scorcht't up with Love, frozen with Disdain. Of killing Sweetness I complain. Streph. If 'tis Corinna, die. II. Since first my dazled Eyes were thrown On that bewitching Face, Like ruin'd Birds, rob'd of their Young, Lamenting, frighted, and alone, I fly from place to place. III. Fram'd by some Cruel Powers above, So nice she is, and fair; None from undoing can remove, Since all, who are not Blind, must Love; Who are not vain, Despair. IV. Alex. The Gods no sooner give a Grace, But fond of their own Art, Severely jealous, ever place To guard the Glories of a Face, A Dragon in the Heart. V. Proud and ill-natur'd Powers they are, Who peevish to Mankind, For their own Honour's sake, with Care, Make a sweet Form divinely Fair, And adds a Cruel Mind. VI. Streph. Since she's insensible of Love, By Honour taught to hate, If we, forc'd by Decrees above, Must sensible to Beauty prove, How Tyrannous is Fate? VII. Alex. I to the Nymph have never nam'd The Cause of all my pain. Streph. Such Bashfulness may well be blam'd; For since to serve we're not asham'd, Why should she blush to Reign?
VIII. Alex. But if her haughty Heart despise My humble proffer'd One, The just Compassion she denies, I may obtain from other's Eyes; Hers are not Fair alone. IX. Devouring Flames require new Food; My Heart's consum'd almost: New Fires must kindle in her Blood, Or Mine go out, and that's as good. Streph. Would'st live, when Love is lost? X. Be dead before thy Passion dies; For if thou should'st survive, What Anguish would the Heart surprize, To see her Flames begin to rise, And Thine no more Alive. XI. Alex. Rather what Pleasure shou'd I meet In my Tryumphant scorn, To see my Tyrant at my Feet; Whil'st taught by her, unmov'd I sit A Tyrant in my Turn. XII. Streph. Ungentle Shepherd, cease for shame; Which way can you pretend To merit so Divine a Flame, Who to dull Life makes a mean Claim, When Love is at an End? XIII. As Trees are by their Bark embrac'd, Love to my Soul doth cling; When torn by th' Herd's greedy Taste, The injur'd Plants feel they're defac't, They wither in the Spring. XIV. My rifled Love would soon retire, Dissolving into Aire, Shou'd I that Nymph cease to admire, Blest in whose Arms I will expire, Or at her Feet despair.
LONDON, Printed for Benj. Billingsley, at the Printing-Press, in Cornhil, 1683.