The True-Lovers Glory.
Where two Lovers kind and free,
Doth both express their Loyalty,
And may to all a pattern be,
For to delight in Constancy.
To the Tune of, The Country-Fa[rm]er: Or, The New-Market Jigg .
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Y Ou Lovers most Loyal, where-e're you be,
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Give ear to my Ditty, and listen to me;
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I now am undone, forsook, and forlorn,
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And this is the cause I so sadly do mourn:
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My Strephon he doth prove unkind,
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Another Mistris he doth find,
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Which is such a trouble to my sad mind,
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I almost dispair any joy to find.
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Through woods, & through desarts, i'le gang alone
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To Trees that are senseless i'le make my moan;
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By the murmuring streams as they do glide,
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I'le tell the mischance did me betide;
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Bewailing the loss of my Love so dear,
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The fairest Swain I e're come near:
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And now my heart's drowned in sorrow and fear,
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Which from my poor eyes costs many a tear.
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Was ever poor Maid unhappy like me?
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Undone by my fate, crost byy Destiny!
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No, no, yet my passion I now endure,
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Yet cannot find help, nor hope for Cure:
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But this in the end a comfort will be,
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That I was true, he false to me;
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And tho' my downfal I plainly foresee,
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I hug my soft Chains, and would not be free.
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The Rose in my Cheek begins to wax pale,
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And 'tis all in vain my case to bewail:
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But tho' on me now Dame Fortune doth frown,
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My love and my constancy brings me a Crown,
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That never will fade, nor never decay,
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Till I come to the Elizium Bay,
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Where Lovers most faithful no Tribute do pay,
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But sing their misfortunes for ever and aye.
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W Hat makes my dear Cloris for to complain,
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Or why dost thou spend thy dear breath in vain
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Is Strephon unkind? tell me wherein,
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Ingratitude is a most deadly Sin;
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But as for my self, I freely protest,
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In thee alone I count my self blest:
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Without thee I pine, am never at rest,
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Since love with his power hath me possest.
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The name of my Cloris i'le still adore,
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I'le honour thy sight, what would'st thou have more
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I'le write thy dear name where-ever I go,
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And count thee a Saint amongst Mortals below:
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Then blame not thy Love, nor count him unkind.
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A Lover more true thou never wilt find;
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And when hand in hand we both are conjoyn'd,
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The blessing's compleat that Heaven design'd.
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I'le hug and imbrace thee between my arms,
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And chear thy sad heart by amorous charms:
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Fair Venus her self was ne'r honour'd more,
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Than my dearest Cloris , whom I adore:
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Why then should my love thus sadly complain,
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To fill thy Love with sorrow and pain?
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Death would be more welcome than thy disdain,
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Then dearest forbear, and sigh not in vain.
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Which when she did hear, she did much rejoyce,
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And blest the kind hour when she made her choice;
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Then kisses were free, and sorrow forgot,
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They loving ty'd fast the Gordion knot;
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which when they had done, they went to't with speed
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And tryed to get more of the breed:
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For these without doubt, were lovers indeed,
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Whose kindness there's none can ever exceed.
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FINIS.
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