%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Mournful Shepherd: / OR / Torment of Loving, and not beiug Lov'd again. / A SONG made by a Gentleman who Dyed for his cruel Mistris. / No Torment can be found no greater pain / Then truly Loving and not Lov'd again; / For thats a strange Disease which Racks, the mind, / Still routs the Judgment, and does Reason blind: / Raises a Civil War, distrasts the Soul, / Whilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roul: / The Lovers dreams of nothing but strang Charms. / And often thinks his Mistris in his Arms; / But waking finds he did embrace a Shade; / Which all his hopes with it he had Conveyd, / To a Pleasant New Tune, called Could Man his Wish Obtain, &c. / Play'd and Sung at the King's Play=House. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1683-1683 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 09/19/2018 35910

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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

R227311 2 Could Man his Wish Obtain, &c. Could Man His Wish Obtain Could Man His Wish Obtain, etc. To the same Tune Could Man His Wish Obtain To the Same Tune COuld man his wish obtain, / how happy would he be; But pitty I implore. / O let som pitty move: Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. : The Mournful Shepherd: / OR / Torment of Loving, and not beiug Lov'd again. / A SONG made by a Gentleman who Dyed for his cruel Mistris. / No Torment can be found no greater pain / Then truly Loving and not Lov'd again; / For thats a strange Disease which Racks, the mind, / Still routs the Judgment, and does Reason blind: / Raises a Civil War, distrasts the Soul, / Whilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roul: / The Lovers dreams of nothing but strang Charms. / And often thinks his Mistris in his Arms; / But waking finds he did embrace a Shade; / Which all his hopes with it he had Conveyd, / To a Pleasant New Tune, called Could Man his Wish Obtain, &c. / Play'd and Sung at the King's Play=House. The Mournful Shepherd: OR Torment of Loving, and not being Loved again. A SONG made by a Gentleman who Died for his cruel Mistress. No Torment can be found no greater pain Than truly Loving and not Loved again; For that's a strange Disease which Racks, the mind, Still routs the Judgment, and does Reason blind: Raises a Civil War, distresses the Soul, Whilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roll: The Lover dreams of nothing but strange Charms. And often thinks his Mistress in his Arms; But waking finds he did embrace a Shade; Which all his hopes with it he had Conveyed, To a Pleasant New Tune, called Could Man his Wish Obtain, etc. Played and Sung at the King's Play-House. 1683-1683 P. Brooksby

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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 9/19/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America affliction / health death love mythology / Classical Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 9/19/2018 2:22:55 PM XBallad Zisa, Jessica Created XML Version of Ballad 9/19/2018 2:22:55 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/19/2018 2:22:55 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Adkison, Katie Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/19/2018 2:22:55 PM Transcriptionist Two Saylor, Colton Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/19/2018 2:22:55 PM Transcriptionist One Abrams, Annie Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/6/2018 Checker Minh Hua Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/2/2016 Bibliographer Rachel LevinsonEmley Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Mournful Shepherd:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Torment of Loving, and not being Lov'd again.</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A <hi rend="bold">SONG</hi> made by a Gentleman who Dyed for his cruel Mistris.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">No Torment can be found no greater pain</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Then truly Loving and not Lov'd again;</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">For thats a strange Disease which Racks, the mind,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Still routs the Judgment, and does Reason blind:</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Raises a Civil War, distrasts the Soul,</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="10" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Whilst Fancy like a Raging Sea does roul:</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="11" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">The Lovers dreams of nothing but strang Charms.</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="12" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">And often thinks his Mistris in his Arms;</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="13" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">But waking finds he did embrace a Shade;</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="14" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Which all his hopes with it he had Conveyd,</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="15" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To a Pleasant New Tune, called <hi rend="bold">Could Man his Wish Obtain,</hi> etc.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="16" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Play'd and Sung at the King's Play-House.</hi></hi></seg>
COuld man his wish obtain, how happy would he be; But wishes seldome gain, And hopes are but in vain, if Fortunes disagree: Pitty you Powers of Love, our Infelicity;
Why should the Fates Conspire, To frustrat my desire, Since Love's the gentle fire that keeps the World alive: But me it puts to pain, My Wishes are in vain, Nor promise any hope to gain. I love and still I view, but dare not tell my mind, Should I my flames persue, I might that Bliss undo, which is for her design'd, A Bliss that's far above, more lasting, rich, and kind; Though hopes succesless prove, My heart shall ne'r remove, From wishing of her Love, in Fortunes Triumph led; And though she banish me, If she but happy be, please my Gost when I am dead. Much like a Tyrant sits th' insulting Prince of Love, And with his Arrows hits Poor Mortals as it fits, his humour from above;
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Second Part, To the same Tune.</hi></seg>
But pitty I implore. O let som pitty move: But ah, what is my Error, when love thus proves a Terror, That is the worlds bright Mirror, and guides the Starry frame; The flame that's in my breast, Alas disturbs my rest, Since I of hopes am dispossest, Thou Center of my joy, the fairest of her kind, Does still with frowns destroy, My Bliss by proving Coy, whilst Love torments my mind; And scorches me in pain, that I no quiet find: Pitty some gentle power, And rain a golden Shower, For sure nought else can wooe her to cool my raging Flame: Alass, that Gold should prove The Orb that still does move the happy Sphere of sacred love.
O're Hills and Rocks I stray, through fields and g[l]o[o]my shade I take my restless way, To Venus oft I pray, to grant me speedy aid, And pitty my distress, or how the cruel Maid: Whose eyes do Lightning bear, Which blast me with despair, And takes me in Loves snare, nor can I thence escape: But struggle there in vain, And still does suffer pain, Whilst I to free myself do strain. Witness ye Founts and Springs, Groves, and each pleasant Mead, Each warbling Bird that sings, And spreads his airy wings; and bleeting flocks that feed: How cruel the fair Nymph to me as ever been. But Tyrant love no more, To persecute give o're, Keep, keep your shafts in store, of them there is no need: For lick the Swan, now I, To sing my last leave try, Which done, I thus lye down & dye. He Dies.
FINIS. Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Sign of the Golden-Ball, in Pye-Corner.