A Lovers complaint being forsaken of his Love.
To a pleasant new tune.
|
A Poore soule sat sighing under a Sicamore tree,
|
O willow, willow, willow,
|
With his hand on his bosome, his head on his knee,
|
O willow, willow, willow,
|
O willow, willow, willow,
|
Sing O the greene willow shall be my garland.
|
He sighd in his singing, and after each grone,
|
Come Willow, etc.
|
I am dead to all pleasure, my true love is gone,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
My Love she is turned, untrue she doth prove,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
She renders me nothing but hate for my love,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene willow, etc.
|
O pitty me (cried he) you Lovers each one,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Her heart's hard as Marble, she rues not my mone,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
The cold streames ran by him, his eyes wept apace,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
The salt tears fel from him, which drowned his face
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
The mute birds sat by him, made tame by his mone
|
O Willow, willow, willow, etc.
|
The Salt tears fell from him, which softened the storm
|
O Willow, willow, willow, willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene willow shall be my Garland.
|
Let no body blame me, her scornes I do prove,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
She was borne to be faire, and I die for her love,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
O that beauty should harbour a heart that's so hard,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
My true lover electing, without all regard,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
Let Love no more boast him, in Palace or Bower,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
For women are trothles, and slote in an houre,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
But what helps my complaining in vaine I complaine,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
I must patiently suffer her scorne and disdaine,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
Come all you forsaken, and sit downe by me,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
He that plaineth of his false love, mine's falser then she
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
The Willow wreath weare I since my love did flee:
|
O Willow, willow, willow, etc.
|
A Garland for Lovers forsaken most meete,
|
O Willow, willow, willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow shall be my Garland,
|
|
Printed at London for I.W.
|
|
|
The second part of the forsaken Lover.
To a new tune.
|
LOwe layd by my sorrow, begot by disdaine
|
O Willow, willow, willow,
|
Against her to cruell, still I complaine:
|
O Willow, willow, willow,
|
O Willow, willow, willow,
|
Sing O the greene Willow shall be my garland.
|
O Love too injurious, to wound my poore heart,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
To suffer the triumph, and joy in my my smart,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
O Willow, Willow, willow, the willow Garland,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
A signe of her falsenesse before me doth stand,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene willow, etc.
|
As here lying pained, it stands in mine eye,
|
O Willow,
|
So hang (it friends) ore mee, in grave where I lye:
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
In grave when I rest me, hang this to the view,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Of all that doe knowe her, to blaze her untrue:
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
With these words ingraven, as Epitaph meet,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Heere lyes one drunk Poyson, for potion most sweet
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
Though she thus unkindly hath scorned my love,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
And carelesly smiles at the sorrowes I prove,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
I cannot against her, unkindely exclaime,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Cause once well I loved her, and honourd her name
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
The name of her sounded so sweete in mine eare,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
It caysd my heart lightly the name of my deare,
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
As then twas my comfort, it now is my griefe:
|
O Willow, etc.
|
It now brings me anguish, then brought me reliefe:
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Sing O the greene Willow, etc.
|
Farwell faire fals-hearted, plaints end in my breath
|
O Willow, etc.
|
Thou dost loath me, I love thee though cause of my death:
|
O Willow, willow, willow,
|
O Willow, willow, willow,
|
Sing O the greene Willow shall be my Garland.
|
|
|
|
|