The loving Virgins Complaint.
Or, her destre to obtaine the love of a young man.
To the tune of Walking of late abroad.
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ONe morning when bright Sol
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Did first ith East appeare,
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abroad I walked,
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abroad I walked,
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the Nightingale to heare.
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Close by a pleasant Grove,
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I heard a Maiden cry,
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with sobs of sorrow,
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with sobs of sorrow,
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she wept most heartily.
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O fie on Cupids Chaine,
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That hath my heart in hold,
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to endlesse bondage,
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to endlesse bondage,
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I am for ever sold.
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Was never silly lasse
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tormented with such paine,
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I long have loved,
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I long have loved,
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and all alack in vaine.
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Ill fortune sure had I
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to dote thus on a boy,
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the more I love him,
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the more I love him,
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the more the foole is coy.
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Like Venus Queene of Love,
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I woo my sweet Adonis,
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but he is bashfull,
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but he is bashfull,
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all comfort from me gone is.
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I dote upon his face.
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I more respect his sight,
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then did that virgin,
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then did that virgin,
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who wooed Hermaphradite.
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So beautifull is he,
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and of so rare complexion,
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his eyes like lodestones,
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his eyes like lodestones,
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have drawne me to subjection.
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His lockes of lovely browne
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are every one a snare,
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to binde poore Maidens,
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to binde poore Maidens,
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to sorrow, griefe, and care.
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Would I had never seene
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those honey smiles so sweet,
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which did inthrall me,
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which did inthrall me,
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when first we two did meet.
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Me thought he to mine eye
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did seeme so pleasant rare,
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that sure a creature,
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that sure a creature,
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he was without compare.
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But all that breeds my care,
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is that he is so young,
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he hardly knowes yet,
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he hardly knowes yet,
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what doth to love belong.
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When he and I by chance
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in any place doe meet,
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from me he turneth,
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from me he turneth,
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with rosie blushes sweet.
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I doe more then my ser
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will give me leave to doe,
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yet he is silent,
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yet he is silent,
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and knowes not how to woo.
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The second part. To the same tune.
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WHen love doth me constraine,
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from him to steale a kisse,
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hee'll not afford me
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hee'll not afford me
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so small a thing as this.
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When Maids & young men meet
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where they all merry be,
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with pleasant pastime,
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with pleasant pastime,
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their company I flee.
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Unlesse my love be there,
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whose presence breeds my joy,
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yet heell not see me,
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yet heell not see me,
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which brings me sad annoy.
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But why doe I complaine,
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or wherefore am I sad,
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I hope my lover,
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I hope my lover,
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will one day make me glad.
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You goddesses and Nymphes,
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who Cupids captives were,
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O make my sweeting
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O make my sweeting
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commiserate my care.
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O Cupid god of Love,
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shoot forth thy golden dart,
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that he may love me,
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that he may love me,
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who now doth breed my smart.
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If he would but regard
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how deare I him respect,
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it sure would move him,
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it sure would move him,
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more deare me to affect.
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Yet though he be so coy,
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still to reject my love,
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my constant fancy,
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my constant fancy
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from him shall never move.
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The knees of my poore heart
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to his subjection bend,
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though he disdaine me,
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though he disdaine me,
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Ile love him to the end.
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Like eccho to the Woods,
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I here distrest doe flye,
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where I a virgin,
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where I a virgin,
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doe vow to live and dye.
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And so farewell fond world,
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farewell my lovely boy:
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thy love shall end me,
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thy love shall end me,
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because thou art so coy.
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I hearing this poore maid,
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so pitiously complaine,
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I stept unto her,
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I stept unto her,
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to ease her of her paine.
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Sweet virgin cease your mone,
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quoth I, and be content,
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by me be ruled,
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by me be ruled,
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and you shall not repent.
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By my perswasion she
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was rul'd, and did agree
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to leave the greene wood,
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to leave the greene wood,
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and walke along with me.
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In hope that after wards
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his heart would tender prove,
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which she deserved,
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which she deserved,
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by true and constant love,
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