A pleasant new Ballad of Daphne
To a new Tune.
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WHen Daphne from faire [P]hoebus did flie
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the West winde most sweetly
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Did blow in her face:
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Her silken Scarfe scarce shaddowed her eyes,
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The God cried, O pitie, and held her in chace,
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Stay Nimph, Stay Nimph, cryes Apollo;
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Tarry and turn thee, sweet Nimph stay,
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Lion nor Tyger doth thee follow:
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Turne thy faire eyes and look this away.
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O turne O prettie sweet,
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And let our red lips meet:
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Pittie O Daphne, pittie O pitty me.
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pittie O Daphne pittie me.
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She gave no eare unto his cry,
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But still did neglect him the more he did mone,
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He still did entreat, she still did denie,,
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And earnestly prayes him to leave her alone.
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Never never cryes Apollo,
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Unlesse to love thou do consent:But st[i]ll with my voice so hollow,
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Ile crie to thee while life be spent.
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But if thou turn to me,
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I will praise thy felicitie
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Pitty O Daphne, pittie O me,
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pitty O Daphne, pitty me.
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Away like Venus Dove she flies,
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The red blood her buskins did run all adowne,
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He Plaintiffe love she now denies
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Crying, help help Diana and save my renowne:
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Wanton wanton lust is neare me.
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Cold and chast Diana aid,
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Let the earth a Virgin beare me:
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Or devoure me quick a maid: Diana heard her pray,
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And turned her to a Bay.
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Pittie O Daphne, pittie, O pittie me,
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pitty O Daphne, pittie me.
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Amazed stood Apollo then,
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When he beheld Daphne turnd as she desired,
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Accurst I am above Gods and men,
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With griefe and laments my sences are tired.
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Farwel false Daphne most unkinde.
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My love is buried in this grave,
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Long have I sought love, yet love could not finde,
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Therefore this is my Epitaph
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This tree doth Daphne cover,
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That never pitied lover,
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Farewell false Daphne that would not pittie me
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though not my Love, yet art thou my Tree.
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