The paire of Northerne Turtles:
Whose love was firme till cruell Death,
Deprivd them both of life and breath.
To a new Northerne Tune, or, A health to Betty.
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Farewell, farewell, my dearest deare,
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all happinesse wait on thee,
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For now alas my Turtle Dove,
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I am departing from thee,
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Nothing but death could change our love
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but now he that will sever,
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And separate those Turtle Doves,
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which long lay lulling together.
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Oft times with kind imbraces sweet,
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thy armes have me inclosed,
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With kisses lulling me asleepe,
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like Lovers kind disposed,
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Whose firm affections nought but death,
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at any time could sever,
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But now hel part those Turtle Doves,
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which long lay lulling together.
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O could I stay but now with thee,
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Thou shouldst as constant prove me,
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As Thysbe to her Pyramus,
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so dearely doe I love thee,
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As not the love of any man,
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our loves at all should sever,
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Farewell my Love, we now no more,
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shall nere lye lulling together.
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Could teares expresse my griefe of heart
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which now I have conceivd,
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Whole rivers from mine eies shuld flow,
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to tell thee how Im grieved,
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That now I needs must part from thee,
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since death our loves doe sever,
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And that alas we canot now,
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no more lye lulling together.
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But yet assure thy selfe my Dove,
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my Turtle and my dearest,
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Above all other men in the world,
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thy love to me was neerest,
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No fancy towards another Mate,
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our loves at all could sever
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So kindly did we alwayes greet,
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while we lay lulling together.
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Which maks me sigh, and weep, & mourn
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to leave my onely Sweeting,
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But yet I hope in joy and blisse,
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wee shall have better meeting;
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Though in this world most cruell death,
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our love and joyes doe sever,
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Yet we in better joyes I hope,
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in heaven shall live together.
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Therefore my Deare be not thou sad,
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nor too much discontented,
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O let not my departure hence,
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of thee be now lamented,
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Lest killing griefe perplex thy mind;
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for though our bodies sever,
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We shall in the Elizian fields,
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in joy and blisse meet together.
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So once more I bid thee adieu,
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now take thy latest kisses,
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For now pale death hath wounded me,
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farewell all earthly blisses,
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Farewell my dearest Turtle Dove,
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yet though our bodies sever,
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I hope in everlasting blisse,
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we shall shortly meet together.
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The second part of the Northerne Turtle;
Wayling his unhappy fate,
In being deprived of his sweet Mate.
To the same Tune.
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AS I was walking all alone,
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I heard a man lamenting,
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Under a hollow bush he lay,
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full sor he did repent him:
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Alas, quoth he, my Love is gone,
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which causeth me to wander,
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Yet merry will I never be,
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till I lye lulling beyond her.
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Good Lord so soundly could I sleepe,
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if that I lay lulling beyond her,
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All the night, till day were light,
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and the Sun did shine upon her,
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Yet early by day I would steale away,
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to keepe my Love from slander,
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Yet merry will I never be,
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till I lye lulling beyond her.
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My Love and I will gallantly,
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so many yeeres together,
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Her love was so inclined to me,
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that now Im loth to leave her:
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But now this wicked world is such,
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that causeth me to wander,
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Yet will I never woman touch,
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till I lye lulling beyond her.
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Like to the Turtle I will mourne,
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in absence of my marrow,
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With bitter teares I cry and mourne,
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my joy is all but sorrow;
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My comfort is to me much care,
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whilst floods and woods I wander,
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Nay, merry will I never be,
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till I lye lulling beyond her.
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O Gods that make the Fowles that fly,
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to love their Mates so dearely,
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Yet for her sake they doe refuse,
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to sing or chirp once cheerely;
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What comfort can the world afford,
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what joyes then can I render?
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Nay merry will I never be,
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till I lye lulling beyond her.
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A pretty Dame was once my Love,
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till death made separation,
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And she to me did constant prove,
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without dissimulation;
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Yet for her sake still will I weepe,
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while I on earth doe wander,
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Nay soundly will I never sleepe,
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till I lye lulling beyond her.
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Though cruell death hath cut the breath
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of this my comely creature.
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To meet againe we have true faith,
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our change is but a feature,
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Death may indeed in bondage keepe,
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yet not our love can hinder,
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Then soundly, soundly shall I sleepe,
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when as I lye lulling beyond her.
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My dearest Deare I come to thee,
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whent pleaseth death to send me,
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The grave I count my dearest home,
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oh quickly then befriend me,
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She provd a Hero true to me,
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and I will be Leander,
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I never shall in quiet be,
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till I lye lulling beyond her.
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