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EBBA 30002

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The Fond Lovers Friendly Advice.
Being an Excellent New Song, much in Request,
To a Pleasant New TUNE.

(1)
HI- ho, I've lost my Love, Toll la ra, Toll la ra ra,
How can I this grief remove? Toll la, etc.
Be contented, you shall find her, Toll de, etc.
And to you she shall prove Kinder: Toll de, etc.

(2)
Oh no, she does Disdain me, Toll.
Her cruel looks has almost slain me, Toll.
For her looks it is no matter, Toll.
'Tis to try if you can flatter, Toll.

(3)
Oh no, I never use it, Toll.
My living does too much excuse it, Toll.
Then Arm your heart with firm Affection, Toll.
'Twill make her bow to Loves subjection, Toll.

(4)
But Alas! what shall I do? Toll.
She slights me still, for all I'm true, Toll.
Cease your Grief, I do advise you, Toll.
She shall Love, and not despise you, Toll.

(5)
Oh! she ne'r regards my Anguish, Toll.
Though I dayly sigh and languish, Toll.
Yet hereafter you shall find her, Toll.
Be more pittiful and kinder, Toll.

(6)
I her Favours am pursuing, Toll.
Till I weary am of Wooing, Toll.
With fresh Arguments be ready, Toll.
Faint heart never won fair Lady, Toll.

(7)
Endless is my Grief and Care, Toll.
I find no hopes but sad Dispair, Toll.
Then look about you for some other, Toll.
And see if you can Love another, Toll.

(8)
No, my mind can never waver, Toll.
I must either Dye or have her, Toll.
Never make this stir about her, Toll.
You may do as well without her, Toll.

(9)
Oh! ne'r perswade me to it, Toll.
I had rather Dye than do it, Toll.
Then you may fondly still admire, Toll.
The more you seek her, she'll retire, Toll.

(10)
Does she then her Love deny me? Toll.
Does she slight me for to try me? Toll.
She triumphs o're your fond Passion, Toll.
Which makes her use you in this fashion, Toll.

(11)
By what means then shall I find, Toll.
If she be to Love inclin'd, Toll.
Seem your Love for to give over, Toll.
And her mind you'll soon discover, Toll.

(12)
Could I find her once returning, Toll.
She should not be left in Mourning, Toll.
Nothing in the World should grieve her, Toll.
In my Arms I'de soon receive her, Toll, etc.


Printed for C. Bates, next the Crown-Tavern, in West-Smithfield.

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