The Young-Mans A.B.C.
OR
Two Dozen of Verses which a Young-Man sent
to his Love, who proved unkind; wrote in the manner of an Alphabet.
The Tune is, Aim not too high.
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ACcept dear Love
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these shadows of my grief,
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And let thy pitty
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send me some relief,
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A Captive to
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thy will I must remain,
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For thou art only she,
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must ease my pain.
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BE kind to me,
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as I am kind to thee,
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Blast not thy fame,
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with cruelty to me,
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But let thy inward parts
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be like thy face,
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Beauty in heart
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adorns the outward face,
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COnsider how,
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my service hath been bent
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Continually
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to gain thy sweet content,
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Can'st thou my dear,
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be so obdure to me,
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Cross unto him
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that is so true to thee.
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DEfer no time,
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to understand my grief,
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But with some speed,
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come ease me with relief:
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Thy beauty rare,
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hath struck my heart so deep,
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That all my days,
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I mean to wail and weep.
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EXcept thou do
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some favour to me yield,
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I shall be slain,
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with love in Venus field,
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I am so discontent
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in mind and heart,
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That neither means
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Nor time can cure my smart.
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FOrget thou not
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the woe wherein I dwell,
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My torments do
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all other griefs excell,
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Consider well
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my woful sable nights
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And days I spend away,
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without delights.
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GRant me thy love,
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to mittigate my pain,
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The like thou shalt
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receive from me again;
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So love will we
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as doth the Turtle Dove,
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Whose firm affection
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ever constant prove.
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HAve you respect
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of this the grief I take,
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Which out of sleep,
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doth Sometimes me awake:
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In dreams I see
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that which I most desire;
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But waking sets
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my sences all on fire.
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IN doleful sort,
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these words I now relate,
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Which makes me think,
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my self unfortunate,
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To set my heart
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where I had nought but scorn,
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Which makes me rue
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the time that I was born.
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KIll me not in
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this desperation deep,
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To think how I neither
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eat, nor drink nor sleep,
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To think of that
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which I cannot obtain,
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The which hath near
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my heart with sorrow slain.
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LEt tender pitty
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move thy gentle heart
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And so from thee,
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my love shall never start,
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To gain thy Love,
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i'le venture life and Limb,
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And for thy sake,
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the Ocean I will swim.
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MY life I loath,
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because my woes increase,
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Therefore my torments cease,
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and me release,
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Then be not harsh,
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whereas thou should'st bekind,
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But for my love
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let me no hatred find.
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NEither deny
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to grant me this request,
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Nor seek thou not,
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to work me more unrest,
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For if thou do,
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the worst share fall to thine,
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The worst can come,
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ends but one life of mine.
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OH that thou would'st
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but now conceive aright,
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Then would my darkness
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soon be turn'd to light
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My greatest sorrows
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should then I destroy,
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And all my grief,
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and care exchange to joy.
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PIerce then no deeper,
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to my bleeding heart,
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The which is ready
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now for to depart,
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He still that loves
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and is not belov'd again,
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Had better dye,
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then still to live in pain.
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QUench thou the flames,
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of this my burning breast,
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Which for thy sake.
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no time nor tide can rest,
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My love to thee
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hath ever more been true,
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Therefore the same
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see still I have from you.
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REgard my grief,
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how still it more exceeds,
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My life is like the Herb,
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that's spoil'd with weeds:
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Amongst the finest Wheat,
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the tares do grow,
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And thou my love
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hath wrought my overthrow,
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SWeet love, now take,
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on me thy friend some care,
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Regard his grief
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that still lives in dispair
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Of thy true love, which
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is more dear then Gold,
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My griefs are more
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than numbers can be told.
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TOo long I have liv'd,
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and yet too late repent,
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For why the Glory of
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my life is spent;
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In loving her,
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that never did love me,
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O then what days,
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of pleasure can I see.
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WOuld I had never
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liv'd thy face to have seen,
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O then full happy
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surely had I been:
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For never any one,
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under the Sun,
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But thou alone,
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could me this wrong have done.
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X Thousand times
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more cruel is thy mind,
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Then Heathens, Jews,
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or Turks are in their kind,
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Or any one
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that on the earth doth go,
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And woe is me,
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For I have found it so.
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YEt if thy mind be
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so perversly bent
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That nothing can
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procure my hearts content
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Know this from me,
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that I have learn'd of late
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No more to dote
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on her that doth me hate,
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ZENOBIA
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to Tamberlain ne'r was
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More dear then thou
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to me, but now alas,
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I find my toyl
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my sighs and sobs in vain
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why should I love
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and not be lov'd again.
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& Now to set
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a period to my woe,
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If thou wilt have me
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prithee tell me so;
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If otherwise thou mean'st
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thy mind it send
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Resolve me off or on
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and there's an end.
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