The Young-mans Wish,
OR,
Behold his mind fulfild, whom Love had almost kild,
With joy revivd againe, as heere appeareth plaine:
The like to this, (twixt Man and Wife)
I never heard yet, in all my Life.
To the tune of, I am in Love, and cannot tell with whom.
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WHat strange affections have my thoughts possest,
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that nothing will nor can my mind content?
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Or why should love my inward parts molest,
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or time away in patience thus be spent?
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The cause Ile shew, but oh my heart will breake;
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I am in love, but know not how to speake.
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My Humors and my Fancies all are crost,
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my minde so much disturbd I cannot sleepe;
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By day my wits like tennis Balls are tost,
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and every hower in dolefull dumps most deepe:
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I am cast downe, all pleasure I forsake,
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The reason is, I love and cannot speake.
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Sometimes my Muse ascendeth up on high,
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and climes Parnassus hils for learnings lore;
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As soone againe it in the deepe doth lie,
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now high, then low; now rich, and straightway poore:
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Now laugh & smile, yet straight my heart will breake;
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For still I love and know not how to speake.
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I wander up and downe, and yet stand still;
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I walke abroad, and yet lie sick in bed:
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I live at libertie, and yet my will
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is into desolation captive led:
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My health I have, yet life doth me forsake,
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Though still I love, I know not how to speake.
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I feede, I feast, I fare on dainty dyet;
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I drinke the freshest wine, yet still am dry:
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I take my rest, and yet can have no quiet;
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I stand in water, yet in flames I frye:
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I sulphur greatly, yet with cold I shake;
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I love in heart, and yet I dare not speake.
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I weare good clothes, and yet I naked goe,
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with decent gesture seemely to behold;
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I am adornd from top unto the toe;
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And yet my shape is lothsome double fold:
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I have my wits, and yet I doe mistake,
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Tis all because I love, and cannot speake.
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I heare, I see, I smell, I taste, I touch,
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and yet am senceles growne in every thing;
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Great want I feele, yet have (me thinks) too much,
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each ounce of mirth, a pound of griefe doth bring:
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I am inforcd thus to the world to breake
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My minde; but to my Love I cannot speake.
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I live in peace, yet hold an inward strife,
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Cupid that villaine wounded so my heart;
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I single am, yet faine would have a Wife,
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to ease me of my dolour, griefe and smart:
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But she with whom I gladly would partake,
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Makes me abashd, I know not how to speake.
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The second Part. To the same Tune.
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O That some Oratour would be so kinde,
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to plead my cause, and certifie my love;
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My passions and disturbances of minde.
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to try if she will prove my Turtle Dove:
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What almes or answer she to me would make,
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For oh alas, I love, but cannot speake.
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But since no meanes or way I can invent,
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to bring her tidings of my hearts desire;
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My time in Wishes shall be wholly spent,
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and Phoenix-like Ile wast my selfe in fire:
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For while I live Ile sorrow for her sake,
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Because I want both Art and heart to speake.
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O that I were some curious King of Gold,
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to weare upon her finger for delight;
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That by some Merchant so I might be sold
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for her owne use and service day and night:
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Or would I were a bond-slave for her sake;
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That feare might force, or Love me cause to speake.
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Could I but crave to light her to her bed,
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it surely would revive my drooping heart;
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Or lay soft pillowes underneath her head;
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till dalliance long had made us loth to part:
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So finding scope, my wished mind Id breake,
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By signes, to heare, or touch, if not to speake.
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But O my heart, my wishes are in vaine,
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no hopes have I for this which here I crave;
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Nor know I any way her love to gaine;
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O would the Fates had digd my timeles grave:
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Where I might rest securely in my Tombe,
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And not be found untill the day of doome.
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His Love (at last) who from a window high
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had heard the griefes and sorrowes he indurd;
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Thus comforts him with words immediately,
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thy love-sicke heart (said she) shall soone be curd:
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Thou shalt no longer cause have to complaine;
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If thou lovst me, Ile quit thy love againe.
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Thou wishedst but my company a time;
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now heres my hands for ever and for aye,
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In weale or woe I will be wholly thine,
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my heart, my hand, my life shall thee obay:
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So, lastly; thus their loves were truely tride,
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He was her Bridegroome, she his lovely Bride.
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