The Dispairing Maiden Reviv'd
By the Return of her Dearest Love.
The dark and dismal clouds of Love,
did overwhelm her mind,
But at the last, the Clouds they past,
and now are both Combin'd.
To the Tune of, The fair one let me in; Or Busie Fame; Or , Jenny Gin.
|
A S I walkt forth to take the air,
|
one morning in the Spring,
|
And for to view the Lillies fair,
|
and to hear the small Birds sing:
|
Near to a pleasant silent shade,
|
as near as I could guess,
|
I heard a fair and comely Maid,
|
her mind she did express.
|
O cruel and unconstant love,
|
unfaithful and unkind,
|
Yet I did never Loyal prove,
|
thou didst it ever find:
|
How can'st thou then so cruel be,
|
to leave me in dispair,
|
Since I have been so true to thee,
|
O turn to me my dear.
|
She rent her robes and Ornaments,
|
and mournfully she said,
|
In heart and Soul I do lament,
|
a poor and harmless Maid:
|
You pritty birds, that hear my words,
|
full little do you know,
|
Whilst I relate my heart will break,
|
with bitter grief and woe.
|
Didst thou not solemnly protest,
|
thou would'st be ever kind,
|
And with thy love I should be blest,
|
but now I can't it find:
|
For now I see, thou art fled from me,
|
my heart's supprest with care,
|
In tears she burst out bitterly,
|
and tore her golden hair.
|
O cruel death be not unkind,
|
but ease me of those pains,
|
My breath to thee I do resign,
|
to shake off these my chains:
|
For he is gone who was indeed
|
the comfort of my life,
|
For whom my very heart doth bleed,
|
O death come end the strife.
|
She smote upon her Ivory breast,
|
the fountains of her eyes,
|
With tears, true sorrow did express,
|
her sighs did pierce the Skies:
|
O that I could but see his face,
|
I willingly could dye,
|
And change with him one kind embrace
|
in right Solemnity.
|
No sooner had she thus declar'd,
|
the subject of her mind,
|
But her true love did straight appear,
|
who had his heart enjoyn'd:
|
Who said i'le ever constant be,
|
since thou dost loyal prove,
|
I'le love none in the world but thee,
|
thou art my Turtle-Dove.
|
The Young-Mans Answer.
|
I did withdraw my self a while,
|
loves fancies for to try,
|
But now thou shalt enjoy true smiles,
|
with thee i'le live and dye:
|
And here's my hand with all my heart
|
believe me this is true,
|
Till death doth come we'l never part,
|
whatever doth ensue.
|
I'le range the world from side to side,
|
for to express thy fame,
|
With jewels I will deck my Bride,
|
and raise thy glorious name:
|
Had I ten Thousand pounds and more,
|
thou should'st enjoy it all,
|
I set by thee such mighty store,
|
thy beauty I extol.
|
Then let us cast all grief aside,
|
that joys may so abound.
|
Thou art indeed my only Bride,
|
with bliss thou shalt be crown'd,
|
And then they joyned hand in hand,
|
and kindly did embrace,
|
As plainly I did understand,
|
and did avoid the place.
|
|
|
|
|
|