Loves up to the elbowes. To the tune of Codlings.
|
YOu men that loving be, love not too fondly,
|
Let still your mind live free, yet use them kindly.
|
Use not in love excesse,
|
For here I will expresse
|
I am in love no lesse
|
then up to th' elbowes
|
I spide a daintie Dame of fayrest feature
|
She was of natures frame a comely creature,
|
Her beauty did excell.
|
And her sight pleasd me well
|
With her in love [I] fell
|
up to the elbowes.
|
Oft have I meet this maid yet neere spoke to her,
|
Bashfulnes did perswade, I should not wooe her,
|
Still this most beautious prize
|
So dazeled mine eyes,
|
I fell in wofull wise
|
in love to the elbowes.
|
Once at a Wake I met my lovely sweeting
|
When I did cleane forget the use of greeting,
|
She mery made with Ale,
|
Whose acquaintance was but small,
|
In love I further fall
|
up to the elbowes.
|
Dancing upon a Greene next time I spide her,
|
She seem'd like Flora's Queene all th'time I ey'd her
|
Such frolicke roundelaies
|
She danst to winne the Baies
|
I fell: while she got the praise
|
in love to th' elbowes.
|
Trasing the fragrant fields one morning early,
|
To see what nature yeeldes, Wheat Rie and barly.
|
A milking I did finde
|
This maid of Venus kind
|
Fate hath my love assignde
|
up to the elbowes.
|
Selling of Apricokes I spide her standing
|
Laid out with golden lockes my heart commanding
|
I cheapned her ware
|
It lookt so passing faire
|
But her lookes cast care on care
|
being up to th' elbowes.
|
Once I occasion tooke to speake unto her,
|
Such was her Beautious looke I faine would wooe her
|
But speech was spent in vaine
|
Such wordes of coy disdaine
|
From her: my heart hath staine
|
being up to th' elbowes.
|
|
|
|
|
The second part. To the same tune.
|
ONce at a mariage feast wee dinde together,
|
I view'd her mongst the rest though minds did souer
|
I feasted on her sight
|
She would not lookes requite
|
Yet still I tooke delight
|
being up to th' elbowes.
|
Like Helens is her face with Golden tresses,
|
Which showes suoh splendant grace like young Narcissus
|
Her eyes like Lampes doe shine
|
Her lookes are so Divine
|
She doth my love confine
|
up to the elbowes
|
Her pretty Dimple Chin, Cheekes red as Cheries
|
Her necke like Ivory thinne with Amber Berries
|
Wast short and body tall
|
And fingers long and small
|
Forst me in love to fall
|
up to the elbowes.
|
From wast unto the foote compleat of nature
|
None sees but still doth praise this comly creature
|
Did face and mind agree
|
She then would pitty me
|
That by loves cruelty
|
am up to the elbowes
|
Once more Ide court this dame but am asha[med]
|
And by my rash attempt I might be blamed
|
My loving heart doth ake
|
For my faire Mistris sake
|
What course should lovers take
|
being up to the elbowes.
|
I have seene lovers pine for such like crosses,
|
I have seene lovers die for such like losses
|
But in extreames of woe
|
I neever yet [I] know
|
In love, a young man so
|
up to the elbowes.
|
Will man that is a man be slaved by woman
|
But tis a fault in man growne too too comm[on]
|
To love, yet love in vaine
|
And be not belov'd againe
|
I plungd am in loves paine
|
up to the elbowes
|
Vanish all feareful feare I wil unto her
|
Vanish al careful care for I must wooe her
|
If we can wel agree
|
And she can fansie me
|
No longer love shal be
|
up to the elbowes.
|
|
|
|
|