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EBBA 20021

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The Northerne Turtle:
Wayling his unhappy fate,
In being deprived of his sweet Mate.
To a new Northerne tune, or A health to betty.

AS I was walking all alone,
I heard a man lamenting,
Under a hollow bush he lay,
but sore he did repent him [:]
Alas quoth he, my Love is gone:
which causeth me to wander,
Yet merry wil I never bee,
till I lye lulling beyond her.

Good Lord, so soundly I could sleep,
if that I lay lulling beyond her,
All the night till the day were light
and the sun did shine upon her:
Yet early by day I wold steal away
to keepe my Love from slander,
Yet I will never quiet bee,
till I lye lulling beyond her.

My love and I, we gallantly,
so many yeares together,
Her love was so inclined to me,
that now I'me loth to leave her;
But now this wicked world is such
that causeth me to wander:
Yet will I never woman touch,
till I lye lulling beyond her.

Like to the Turtle I will mourne,
in absence of my marrow,
With bitter teares I cry and morne
my joy is all but sorrow;
My comfort is to me much care,
whilst floods and woods I wander
Nay, merry will I never be,
till I lye lulling beyond her.

O Gods that made the birds to fly,
to love their mates so dearely,
Yet for her sake they doe refuse,
to sing or chirp once cheerely.
What comfort can the world afford
what joyes then can I render?
Nay merry wil I never be,
till I lye lulling beyond her.

A pretty Dame was once my Love,
till death made separation,
And she to me did constant prove,
without dissimulation:
Yet for her sake still will I weepe
while I on earth doe wander:
Nay soundly will I never sleepe,
till I lye lulling beyond her.

Though cruell death hath cut the breath,
of this my comely creature,
To meet againe we have true faith,
our change is but a feature.
Death may indeed in bondage keepe,
yet not our love can hinder,
Then soundly, soundly shall I sleepe;
when as I lay lulling beyond her.

My dearest Deare I come to thee.
when pleaseth death to send me,
The grave I count my dearast home;
ah quickely then befriend me:
She prov'd a Hero true to me,
and I will be a Leander,
I never shall in quiet be,
till I lye lulling beyond her.


London, Printed for J.H. FINIS.

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