The Lovers Lamentation to his love Nanny,
To the tune of Did you see Nan to day?
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WHen that I call to minde my great extremities,
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Then no way can I finde ease for my miseries:
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I sit me downe to weepe forced by folly,
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To weare the Garland gay, birch and green holly.
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I droope, being discontent, but no man knowes it:
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I curse my wofull state, my gesture shewes it:
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My heart with bleeding teares my eyes distilling,
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With wofull sighs and sobs, Venus blood spilling.
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Did you see Nan to day my pretty Nanny,
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My heart, my Love, my joy, and mine owne Cunny?
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Banishe her company, I live in misery,
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This is the life I lead for my sweet Hunny.
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If I mistake me not, thou art a kind one,
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Should I goe seeke a love where should I finde one:
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It may be gentle sweet, if thou wilt prove me,
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Fancy may guide me so that I may love thee.
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Although I be but young doe not forgoe me,
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I have lov'd ever since first I did know thee:
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And love thee still I wil if thou wilt prove me,
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I can say nothing else, but that I love thee.
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Tell me then gentle sweet art thou not cruell?
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And on the fire of Love, wilt thou put fuell?
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Doe not disdaine me through thy deniall,
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But of my constancy, hazard a triall.
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Be not coy, gentle sweet though I commend thee,
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Tis but the poynt of love so to befriend thee,
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Thy Vertues merrit more then I will give thee,
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Thou art a pretty soule sweet heart beleeve me.
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Drive away all my feares with thy sweet kisses,
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Banish those brinish teares, with kinde loves blisses:
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Make me a happy man crowne with glory,
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That I may cast away birch and greene holly.
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So shall the heart of mine that now lies bleeding:
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Rest in that brest of thine and therein feeding:
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[?]uing most joyfully, your time still spendinng,
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[?]ng and rejoyce with me, to your lives ending.
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The Flattering Lovers farewell to his Love Nanny.
To the tune of Virginia.
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OF late it was my chance,
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a walking for to be,
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In Summer time, where as I met,
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with merry company,
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Which well contented me,
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although there were not many:
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I heard one sing melodiously,
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I thinke her name was Nanny,
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Her sweet and comely voyce,
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her silver sounding note,
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Cast such an echo through the dale,
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as passes all report:
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I wish no better sport,
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nor sweeter pleasures any,
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Nor nothing else could mere delight
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then still to be with Nanny.
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But who would thinke the Forest,
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could foster such a bird:
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Or that the bankes of Ivie boughs
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could such a one afford,
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I tell you at a word,
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miles have I passed many,
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Yet never heard in all my life,
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so sweet a Lasse as Nanny.
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Her wit exceeds Ulisses,
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her beauty Hellen faire:
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For comlines Dianaes Nimphes,
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with her may not compare.
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You Swaggerers may feare,
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least that they all doe misse her:
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Theres none of you that are,
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once worthy for to kisse her,
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If that Apolloes Lute,
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amongst us were exilde,
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Her pretty wit would it confute,
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and make it somewhat milde.
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No more can I rehearse,
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the Irish Harpe or any,
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Therefore I sing, I cry, I call,
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cast all your caps at Nanny.
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The Nightingale may cease,
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and never sing againe:
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So may the birds within the woods
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their singing is in vaine.
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Their musicke I disdaine,
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if there be nere so many:
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Their tunes are not to be compard
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unto thy voyce sweet Nanny.
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There is no thing so choice,
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or pleasing unto me,
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As is her sweet melodious voyce,
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and heavenly harmony,
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Let not these Verses be
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offensive un[t]o any:
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A faithfull friend the writer was,
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unto his pretty Nanny.
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Now to conclde, at last,
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and briefly make an end:
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Her lips have still so sweet a tast,
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that none can them amend:
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I never tasted them so much,
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but I wil tast them lesse:
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Wherefore my Nanny do not grutch
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because I have sweet Besse.
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Finis.
Imprinted at London for E.W.
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The Comfortable answere of Nanny, shewing her constant Love to her
best beloved. To to tune of Virginia.
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I Am thy Lover namelesse,
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and so I will be still:
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So that I may be blamelesse,
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then call me what you will.
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I hope of that which is not,
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yet once I trust wil be:
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Remove from that I will not,
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till proofe thereof I see.
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Though Fortune do not favour me,
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according to my will:
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The proofe of my behaviour,
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is for to love you still,
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Intending not to change,
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so long as life doth last:
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But in thy youth to run thy race,
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till youthfull daies be past.
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And though I am far from thee,
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I will thee not deny:
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I love thee, and no more,
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trust me assuredly.
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Your vertuous love I wish to have,
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for Riches I defie:
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I hope to have in time of need,
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shall serve both you and me.
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Time is an hearbe of Vertue,
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that groweth under the Sunne:
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Oft times, all things are daily lost,
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in time all things are done.
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But time is for to try,
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which needs be tryed most:
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Hoping in God, while life doth last,
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you will be true and just.
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When I beheld the Marigolds,
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which smells most pleasant well:
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The moane I make for my Loves sake,
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no living tongue can tell.
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But some doe say, the Marigold,
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doth smell most pleasant well:
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And some doe say, the rose so red
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in colour doth excell.
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Lavender is for Lovers true,
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which I doe meane to keepe:
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Rosemary for remembrance,
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till we againe doe meete.
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Carnations is for graciousnes,
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marke this well by the way:
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Give no regard to flatterers,
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nor passe not what they say.
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So many times are heere be lines,
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and leters for the spell:
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Or drops of rain between us twaine
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so many times farewell.
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So many Creatures of the earth,
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both carnall, tame and fell,
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Fish in the seas, fowles in the ayre
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so many times farewell.
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And so farewel mine own true love,
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farewell my Suger-sweete:
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I shal thinke it ten thousand yeares
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till we againe doe meete.
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Finis.
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