EBBA 21265
Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The tender Citizens, Or
London Young mens Kindnesses.
The maids complaint we'l hear no more
Since we their beauties do adore,
And though they count young men unkind
They shall them faithful Lovers find. Tune of, Tender hearts of etc .
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Y Oung mens hearts of London City
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Now are moov'd with grief and pitty,
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For to hear you maids complain
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Never languish in your anguish
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We will ease you of your pain.
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For those pains that did torment you
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We will study to content you
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And rejoyce each mournful heart
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Cruel Cupid made you stupid
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But we'l ease you of your smart.
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Every sigh that mov'd your passion
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Now shall turn to recreation
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You shall tast of Lovers bliss
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Though desire, burns like fire
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We will coole it with a kiss.
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Let us hear no more complaining
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Talk not of poor mens disdaining
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You shall ever find them true
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Be not grieved 'tis believed
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You shall bid your pains adieu.
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Radiant colours in your faces
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Shall be blest with kind imbraces
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Never did mortals prove so kind
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Though a woman's true to no man
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You shall proove we men are kind.
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While you trouble, our care's double
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And our love's not like a bubble
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Broke with every puff of wind
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'Tis beauty bright, is our delight
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And makes us so to love inclind.
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Maidens cruelly are voting
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We poor souls are still a doteing
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Ever prizing charming eyes
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'Tis our desire, you should admire
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Poor men that you have made your prize.
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Cupid's darts are alwaies whetting
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When the Lover sits a fretting
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And complains of rigid fate
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He says they'r smiles that men beguiles
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And opens the Elizium gate.
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Pitty, pitty men so tender
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To your beauties we surrender
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While your charms do make us bleed
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We love in vain, and you complain
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Oh this is cruelty indeed.
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Still in vain we strive to vanquish
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You your kindnesses relinquish
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Hoping in the end to gain
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Want of kisses crosses blisses
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We lament while you complain.
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Oh forbear your tyranizing
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Now 'tis time leave off despising
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Love for love we ask no more
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But you invent, us to torment
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While we your images adore.
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Cease Oh cease to wrong your Lovers
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This your cruelty discovers
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Makes you be no longer fair
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When young men find you are unkind
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It brings them into great despair.
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You cruel fate, your power abate
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For beauty's conquest is too great
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And makes us hug our fettering chain
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Then know tis true, I swear to you
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Young men do melt when maids complain.
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Printed for J. Wright, J Clark. W.
Thackery, & T. Passinger.
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