Celias Kind Answer to
Corydon's Complaint:
Poor Corydons Complaint doth Celia move,
A little by degrees to yield to Love;
His melting words doth make her heart relent
And her unkindness she doth much repent
And now she is resolved at the last,
To give him comfort for his Sorrows past.
To the Tune of, Corydon's Complaint. With Allowance.
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O What's the matter
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with this Shepherd Swain,
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That in this manner
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he should so complain;
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Some scornful Nymph that stole his heart,
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and lockt it in her breast,
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And he poor Lover feels the smart,
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and is with grief opprest;
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That night nor day, as he doth say,
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he now can take no rest.
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But yet his Mourning
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doth so pierce my heart,
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That in his sorrows
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I must bear a part;
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Alas it is my Coridon,
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I know him by his voice,
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That doth for Coelia make this Moan,
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I am his onely choice;
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Therefore I will some comfort yield
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and make him to rejoyce.
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The second part, to the same Tune.
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STay Jolly Shepherd,
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prethee turn again,
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Walk not so pensive
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for a Maids disdain:
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Although you do me fickle call,
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and wavering as the wind;
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Chear up thy heart, be sure I shall
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hereafter prove more kind;
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And bring Relief for all thy grief,
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unto thy troubled mind.
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Then sit down by me
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in this Mirtle shade,
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And do not flye me
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since I am betraid;
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The Cyprian Boy, Dame Venus joy,
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hath pierced my poor heart,
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And now in all thy troubles I
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will bear the greatest part;
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Because in Love, so lately I
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have learnt the onely Art.
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How it doth grieve me
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that I was unkind,
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But now believe me
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I have chang'd my mind;
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Disdain shall never touch my heart,
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nor lodge within my breast:
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All by the power of Cupids Dart
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as I before confest;
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My mind I freely will impart
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to thee whom I love best.
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Faint-hearted Shepherd
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do not droop and die,
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But for the Celia,
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cease to mourn and cry;
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Arcadia's coast could never boast
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of one more kind and true,
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My Coridon then I will prove
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for ever unto you;
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Because it is no more but meer,
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true love should have its due.
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Thou shalt not fail
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unto the Indian coast,
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For in such dangers
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my love might be lost
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And then what should poor Celia do,
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if Coridon were gone:
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But live in woe continually,
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and sigh, lament, and mourn;
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And dye with grief, without relief,
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when I am left alone.
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Call me not cruel,
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pirthee Love forbear,
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I'le be thy Jewel,
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and will love thee dear;
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No Shepherd Swain upon the Plain
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shall take so much delight,
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As thou shalt from thy Celia find,
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by day and eke by night;
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Because it is my onely joy,
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to have thee in my sight.
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Pardon my strangeness,
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and my fond disdain,
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Since I am willing
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thy love to entertain:
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It was but for to try thy Love
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that I did seem so coy,
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But for to make a full amends
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my Love thou shalt enjoy;
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And I will be thy dearest friend.
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to keep thee from annoy.
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Then banish sadness,
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and let us now imbrace,
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Being met with gladness,
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in this pleasant place;
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And let all Loyal Lovers that
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doth hear of our welfare,
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Say Coridon and Celia,
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doth live without compare;
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Both being free from jealousie,
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and also void of care.
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