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EBBA 34259

National Library of Scotland - Rosebery
Ballad XSLT Template
To be Sung with its pleasant New Tune.

MY Dear and onely Love I pray,
that little World of thee;
Be Govern'd by no other sway,
but purest Monarchie:
For if Confusion have a part,
which vertuous Souls abhore;
I'le call a Synod in mine Heart,
and never love thee more.

As Alexander I will Reign,
and I will Reign alone;
My thoughts did ever yet disdain,
a Rival on my Throne:
He either fears his Fate too much,
or his Deserts are small;
That dares not put it to the Touch,
to gain or lose at all.

But I will Reign and Govern still.
and always give the Law;
And have each Subject at my will,
and all to stand in aw:
But 'gainst my Batteries if I find,
thou kick or vex me sore;
As that thou set me up a Blind,
I'le never Love thee more.

And in the Empire of thy heart,
where I should sollie be;
If others do pretend a part,
or dares to share with me:
Or Committees if thou erect,
and go on such a score;
I'le laugh and smile at thy neglect,
and never Love thee more.

But if thou will prove faithful then,
and constant in thy word;
I'le make thee Glorious by my Pen,
and Famous by my Sword:
I'le serve thee in such Noble ways,
was ne're yet heard before;
I'le crown and deck thy head with bayes,
and Love thee more and more.

The Second Part.

MY Dear and only Love take heed.
how thou thy self dispose;
Let not all longing Lovers feed,
upon such looks as those:
I'le Marble-wall thee round about,
my self shall be the Door;
And if thy heart chance to slide out:
I'le never Love thee more.

Let not thy Oaths like Volies shot,
make any Breach at all;
Nor smoothness of their Language Plot,
which wait to scale the Wall:
Nor balls of wild-fire Love consume,
the Shrine which I adore;
For if such smoak about thee foam,
I'le never Love thee more.

I know thy Vertues be too strong,
to suffer by surprise;
If that thou slights their Love so long,
their Siege at last will rise:
And leave thee Conqueror in thy Health
and state thou was before;
And if thou prove a Common-wealth,
I'le never Love thee more.

But if by fraud or by deceit,
thy Heart to ruine come;
I'le sound no Trumpet as I wont
nor March by Tuke of Drum:
But hold my Drum like Achans Cup,

I'le do with thee as Nero did,
when he set Rome on fire;
Not only all Relief forbid,
But to a Hill retire;
And scorn to shed a Tear to save,
thy Spirit grown so poor;
But laugh and smile thee to thy Grave,
and never Love thee more.

Then shall my Heart beset by thine,
but in far different case,
For mine was true so was not thine,
but lookt like Janus Face:
Thy Beauty shin'd at first so bright,
and wo is me therefore;
That e're I found thy Love so bright,
that I could love no more.

My Heart shall with the Sun be fixt,
for Constancy most strange;
And thine shall with the Moon be next,
delighting ay in change:
For as thou waves with every Wind,
and Sailes through every Shore;
And leaves my constant Heart behind,
how can I Love thee more.

Yet for the Love I bare thee once,
lest that thy Name should die;
A Monument of Marble Stone,
the Truth shal testifie;
That every Pilgrim passing by,
may pity and deplore;
And sighing, read the Reason why
I cannot Love thee more.

The Golden Laws of Love shal be,
upon these Pillars hung;
A Single Heart, a Simple Eye,
a True and Constant Tongue:
Let no Man for more Loves pretend,
then he hath Hearts in store;
True Love begun will never end,
love one and love no more.

And when all Gallants leads about,
this Monument to view;
It's written both within and out,
thou'rt Treacherous I trow:
Then in a Passion they shal pause,
and thusly sighing sore;
Alace he had too just a Cause,
never to Love thee more.

And when the tracing Gods do Face,
from East and West do flee;
They shal Record it to thy shame,
how thou hast loved me:
And how in odds our Love's been such
as few hath been before;
Thou lov'd too many, ay too much,
that I can Love no more.

The misty Mounts, the smoking Lakes,
the Rocks resounding Echo:
The whisling winds, the woods that shake
shal all with me sing hey ho:
The tossing Seas, the tumbling Boats,
tears dropping from each Oar,
Shal tune with me their Turtle Notes,
I'le never Love thee more.

Yet as the Turtle chaste and true,
her Fellow so regrates,
And daily sighs for her Adieu,
that ne're renews her Notes:
But though thy Faith was never fast,
which grieves me wondrous sore;
[?] shal live in Love so Chaste,

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