The Willow-Green:
OR,
The Distressed Lovers Complaint, because that his
Love Compassion doth want.
The like to this Ditty was never read, nor seen,
For he weareth a Garland all of Willow-Green.
To a new Tune, called, The willow green, Sung by Musitians, and in the Theator.
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YOungmen & maids that live in love,
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come listen to this harmless ditty,
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And let fancy your hearts move,
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for to take of me some pitty:
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For unto you I will declare,
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the strangest thing that e're was seen,
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Sad happiness to prove my share,
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now to wear the willow green.
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I'me almost eighteen years of age,
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and so deep am faln in Love;
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Nothing can Cupid's fire asuage,
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except my Dear do constant prove:
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Oft did I make suit unto her,
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in place where we both have been,
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with sighs and tears I then did woe her
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though now I wear the willow green.
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Many gifts I did her proffer.
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if she would grant love to me,
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But she refused my kind offer,
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I could not esteemed be.
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Behold how my body is wasted,
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little thought I these days to have seen,
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So deep of loves cup oft have tasted,
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and now to wear the willow green.
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Search the stories of old ages,
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from Adam to this present time,
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That have fill'd volums and pages,
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no mans case is like to mine;
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For my Love doth prove hard hearted,
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harder then Adamant I ween
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And cunningly from me is parted,
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which makes me wear the willow green.
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The Second Part, to the same Tune.
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COme all that bears good will unto me
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do so much as tell me how,
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This green garland doth become me,
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which I am forst to wear now:
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Because obdurate she doth prove,
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whose beauty might become a Queen,
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And most unfaithful is in Love,
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which makes me wear the willow green.
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My love sleeps on another man's pillow,
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were it but for an hour or two,
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Then i'de leave off this mournful willow
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then Love see what you can do:
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Was ever man more kind in tryal,
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to a Lass then I have been,
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But she to me doth prove disloyal,
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and makes me wear the willow green.
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Harder hap had never no man,
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from the Creation until now:
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To love a cruel unkind woman,
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which will to me no love allow.
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Both day and night I am tormented,
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no rest long time that I have seen,
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My torture cannot be prevented,
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but I must wear the willow green.
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And some friends have lately told me,
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which my sad fates much deplore
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I look like death when they behold me,
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though I was jovial heretofore:
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O that my love-sick suit was granted,
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by her that I most esteem,
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I should enjoy what I[']ve long wanted
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and leave off this willow green.
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My dearest when I do behold thee,
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as thou passest along the street,
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In mine arms I wish to infold thee,
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with kisses I would thee greet:
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Oh that thy heart was not obdurate,
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but in Church we might be seen,
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And be wedded by an honest Curate,
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then i'de cast off this willow green.
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Thou art a Damosel full of beauty,
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rare perfections dwells in thee,
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Cupid reports it is my duty,
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to wait with patient constancy:
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Many brave Damsels have I viewed,
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and Lasses rare where I have been,
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But for thy love I have greatly rued,
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till death i'le wear the willow green.
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Fairest of fairest I thee implore,
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on thy slave to take some pitty:
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Thou art the Goddess that I adore,
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I pray thee read my mournful ditty
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For yet e're many days be spent,
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with thine own eyes it will be seen,
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When to the grave thou hast me sent,
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i'le dye wearing the willow green.
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I hope an answer to receive,
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e're it be long assuredly,
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All happiness I thee bequeath,
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and I will Love thee till I dye:
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Thus I remain the faithfullest Lover,
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that ever to this day was seen,
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d[i]rect thine when thou hast read this over
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to him that wears the willow green.
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