The faithfull SHEPHERD.
The shepherd vows for ever to be true
And Flora bids all wavering thoughts adieu,
They to each other do their promise plight
And in each others company delight.
Tune of, Hail to the mirtle shade .
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C Ome my dear hearts delight,
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let us joyfully welcome the spring,
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That Yearly doth Lovers invite
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to hear the sweet Nightingale sing:
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We hand in hand will walk together
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& mind the green Trees how they bud,
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We now may expect Summer weather,
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and hear the sweet charms of the Wood.
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We'l walk forth into the green Forrest
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and see the young Fawns how they skip,
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And every eight Furlongs we travel,
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I'le kiss thy most delicate Lip,
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Like Rubies they seem to my fancy,
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and Corals they clearly out-vie,
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We'l gather up Herbs for a Tanzey,
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to feast my dear Lover and I.
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No Citizens e're shall exceed us,
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though in gallantry they do surpass,
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Our fancies with pleasure doth feed us,
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and we never wear paint on the face;
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But what good Dame Nature hath spar'd us
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therewith we are fully content,
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And for marriage our years have prepar[']d us
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to be wedded it is our intent.
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But Flora methinks I have tarry'd
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a long and a tedious while,
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Tis surely high time to be marry'd,
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come Flora , come lend me a smile,
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Yea, give me a promise and seal it
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with a wafer that grows on thy Lip,
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Tho I have a wound thou canst heal it,
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and together we Nectar will sip,
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Well since thou art warm'd with desire,
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ile tell thee my joy and my sweet,
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Methinks I do feel the same fire,
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we'l go and old Hymen we'l meet,
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Who, between us shall cause such a union
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no mischief shall ever divide,
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No Shepherd e're found such a true one
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as ile be when once I am ti'd.
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These words my dear Flora do win me,
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come let us make haste and away,
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Methinks there is something within me
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that tells me too long we do stay:
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Oh come let us go and be marry'd,
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I long in thy Bosome to sleep,
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This motion must not be miscarry'd
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yet needs must make haste to my sheep,
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Ile go to thy flocks now my Dearest
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that I love above all other men,
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And prove to be what thou appearest,
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ile help thee to set up thy Pen;
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And when my dear Shepherd is weary,
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thy hurdles I'le help to remove,
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Both night and day with thee ile tarry,
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and alwaies make much of my Love.
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Was ever poor Shepherd so marry'd
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as now I am like for to be,
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Ten thousands have surely miscarry'd,
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and ne'r were so happy as we,
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The Fish that do swim in the Ocean
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such freedom could never enjoy,
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What cruelty could make a Motion
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this happiness now to destroy.
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Thus smiling together they passed,
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and trip'd o're the flowry plain,
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No pleasure their comforts surpassed
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that lov'd, and were loved again:
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Methinks it is sweet to consider
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the joys these true Lovers did find,
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That vow'd to be constant for ever,
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and of an unchangable mind.
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Take pattern by us all you Lovers
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and learn to be constant and true,
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For he that himself once discovers
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to be false, must bid comforts adieu,
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For in day time he shall be tormented
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and Nightly perplexed with dreams,
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But he that would feign be contented,
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must doubtless appear what he seems.
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