%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An Excellent New SONG, Call'd, / The Languishing Swain: / Or, The Hard-hearted SHEPHERDESS. 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 06/29/2021 36787

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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

R227631 1 To a pleasant New Play-Tune He That Loves Best Must Suffer Most To a Pleasant New Play Tune HAppy's the Man that's free from love, / He'll range the Woods and shady Grove, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 62 An Excellent New SONG, Call'd, / The Languishing Swain: / Or, The Hard-hearted SHEPHERDESS. An Excellent New SONG, Called, The Languishing Swain: Or, The Hard-hearted SHEPHERDESS. ?-? J. Blare

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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 6/29/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/29/2021 1:21:51 PM XBallad McCants, Kristen Created XML Version of Ballad 6/29/2021 1:21:51 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/29/2021 1:21:51 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/29/2021 1:21:51 PM Transcriptionist Two Al halabieh, Deena Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/29/2021 1:21:51 PM Transcriptionist One Ward, Jayne Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/6/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">An Excellent New SONG, Call'd,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Languishing Swain:</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Or, The Hard-hearted SHEPHERDESS.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">To a pleasant New Play-Tune.</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Licensed according to Order.</hi></hi></seg>
HAppy's the Man that's free from love, He'll range the Woods and shady Grove, He'll neither mind the Great nor small, But a good Condition's best of all. My only Care was how to keep From cruel Woolves my Harmless Sheep; Although from Woolves my Sheep I kept, None could my heart from love protect. There's ne'r a one upon the Plain, That loves like me poor harmless Swain, But now I find unto my cost, He that loves best shall suffer most. No Swain there is that sure be So wretched in their love as me, For Love I loose Lambs, Life, and all, And yet can gain no love at all. O cruel Gods what have I done, That I must be despis'd alone; There is no Swain that I can find Tormented thus by Woman-kind? My love I made to her alone, Yet did she never mind my moan: I beg'd, I sigh'd, and often cry'd For pity, but she still deny'd.
When I beheld her on the Green, She seem'd to me like beauties Queen, My heart was wounded then with love, And I the pain cannot remove. When I of love to her do speak, She flouts; this makes my heart to break; One smile I beg she turns her head. With frown, that strikes me almost dead. Till now I ne'r lov'd anyone, Yet by my love I am undone, For though she is all charming fair, Her coyness causes deep despair. Can others Nymphs as fair as she, Show to their loves such Cruelty? If so, Why do I thus complain, Since Modesty makes them Disdain? Once more I'll see her killing Eye, Altho' ten thousand Deaths I dye; Praying her Heart may soften'd be, That she may pity take on me. But if she has no tender Heart, Nor will not ease my bleeding smart; Then will I sing out to my cost, He who love's best must suffer most.
Printed for J. Blare, at the Sign of the Looking-Glass on London-Bridge.