The woful complaint, and lamentable death
of a Forsaken Lover. To a pleasant New Tune.
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DOwn by a Forrest as I did pass,
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To see abroad what sports there was,
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Walking by a pleasant Spring,
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The Birds in sundry notes did sing.
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Long time I wandred here and there,
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To see what Sports in Forrest were;
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At length I heard one make great moan,
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Saying, from me all joys are gone.
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I gave good heed unto the same,
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Musing from whence this Eccho came;
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And by no means I could devise
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From whence this sorrowful sound did rise.
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But in that place I did remain,
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Until I heard it once again;
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Where presently I heard one say,
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O Death, come take my life away:
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I looked down on my right hand,
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A sort of pleasant trees did stand;
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And under them I did behold
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A pleasant place, with shaddows cold:
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A sumptuous Seat was in the same,
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Musing from whence this Eccho came:
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Then in this place I did perceive
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A Gentleman most fine and brave;
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And from that place he did come down,
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Casting from him his Morning-Gown;
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Walking up and down that place,
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Methoughts a proper man he was.
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Thus to himself he did lament,
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Wishing to God his days were spent;
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His torments did increase so sore,
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His heart was able to bear no more:
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I stept into a hollow tree,
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Because I would his passion see;
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With folded arms, looking to' th' Skies,
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The tears, alas, stood in his Eyes.
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And careless of his Life, he seem'd,
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Pitty he was no more esteem'd;
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Then down he lay upon the ground;
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No ease of sorrow could be found.
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Thus he lamented in woful case,
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Seven long years, within few days;
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Saying, while I live, I must remain,
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And find no help to ease my pain.
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For she that should my sorrows remove,
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She doth disdain to be my Love;
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And hath done so, since she did hear
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That I to her good will did bear;
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Ye gods above come ease my pain,
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Sith heavy grief-doth it constrain;
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For while my Corps remain on Earth,
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She'll shew the causes of my Death;
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And every tree that here doth stand,
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Shall be ingraven with my hand,
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That they long time may Witness bear
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Love was the cause that I dy'd here.
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Nature to her did so much right,
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And in as many Vertues dight,
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Scorning to take the help of art,
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As ever did embrace a Heart.
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Being so good, so truly try'd,
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O some for less were Deify'd;
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Full of pitty as she may be,
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And yet perhaps not so to me;
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When first I saw her pleasant face,
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Methought a pleasant sight it was;
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Her Beauty took my Wits away,
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I knew not how one word to say.
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A Gentleman took her to Dance,
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She gallantly her self did prance;
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And kept her steps all in due time,
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Which made me wish she had been mine.
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But when I thought she had bin mine own
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Then was she farthest from me flown;
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She gave no ear unto my cry,
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Which makes me here in sorrow dye
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FOr she then in another mind,
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Which to my pain I often find;
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Of all hopes I am beguil'd,
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Which makes me walk the woods so wild.
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To silent tries I made my moan,
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The birds and beasts did hear me groan;
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Yet she that could my sorrows remove,
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Disloyal wretch to me did prove:
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My love to her was constant pure,
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And to my end shall so endure;
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And Jove to her I hope will send,
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A grieved mind before her end:
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I have forsaken Friends and Kin,
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My days to end these Woods within;
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My pleasure past I now do leave
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Sweet Saviour Christ my Soul receive.
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Bear Witness, Heaven, of my grief,
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To ease my heart, send some relief;
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Fair maids, unto you Loves be true,
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If the first be good, change not for a new.
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O young-men all be warn'd by me,
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Gaze not too much on Womens beauty;
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Lest that you be so fettered fast,
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You cannot be releast at last.
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Some womens wiles are too much known
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In love once changing, stick to none;
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They'l swear they love with their heart
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When tongue and mind are both apart.
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My love to her I did reveal,
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And nothing from her did conceal;
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Though at first she seemed coy,
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She said I was her only joy;
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And none but I her love should have,
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What need I any more to crave?
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But Hoggard-like, she me abus'd,
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Another taken, and I refus'd.
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When he had bewail'd his sorrows long,
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He took his Lute that by him hung;
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And on the same he sweetly play'd
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While thereupon these Words he said;
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O Death, when will that hour come,
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That I have waited for so long?
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For while I live I languish still,
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Finding no help to ease my will.
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Then quite he flung his Lute away,
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And took his Sword that by him lay,
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Says, oft hast thou been-thy masters friend
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And now thou must his torment end.
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He gave true Sentence in that place,
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To end his life in woful case,
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The Hilt he stuck into the Ground,
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And gave himself a deadly wound.
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Then unto him I ran amain,
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But O, alas, it was in vain:
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For long before to him I came,
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His Death he had upon the same:
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I found dis Grave was ready made,
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Wherein I thought he should be laid;
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And in that place I laid him down,
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And over-spread his morning-Gown.
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Over his Grave his Sword I laid,
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Whereby his death he had receiv'd;
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Upon his Lute a Peal I Rung,
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And by the place his Lute I hung;
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Then I beheld on every tree
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Her name that was his only joy;
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Which long before his face did stand,
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Because she got the upper-hand.
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This Maiden that did all this wrong,
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to live a Maid thought it o'[r]e long;
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But married was to such a one,
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As dayly made her sigh and groan:
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Her coyness to her former love,
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Disloyal now doth truly prove;
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take hee, fair Maidens, for you see
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Wrongs always will Revenged be.
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