A pleasant new Song between a Seaman,
and his Love.
SHEWING,
Though at the first in misery his time he spent
He met his love at last, with Joy and sweet content,
The Tune is Robin the Devil.
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WHen Sol could cast no light,
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but darkned over,
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And the dark vayles of night
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the Sky doth cover:
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A River running by
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where Ships were Sayling,
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A pretty Maid I spyd,
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weeping and wailing.
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I stept unto her, and said,
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sweet-heart what grieves thee?
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She quickly answer made,
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none can relieve me:
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My Dear by force, quoth she,
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in Wars doth wander,
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Long absence makes me mourn,
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death is Commander.
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This seven long years and more
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he me affected,
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We parted on the Shore
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with hearts Contracted:
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He promised to turn again,
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if God life lent him,
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Which makes me sigh and mourn
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death hath prevent him.
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A Man then comming by,
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struck her amazed,
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Gave her a Token rare,
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on which she gazed:
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Is my Love come, quoth she,
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doth he come near me?
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But still the Man replyd,
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be pleased to hear me.
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Your Love and I did fight
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under one Banner,
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Maintaining Englands right,
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purchasing Honour:
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Till he receivd a blow,
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your hopes being buried,
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There he got his deaths stroke,
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not to be Cured.
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Witness I can afford,
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no Man stood neerer,
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I saw him singled out,
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here stands the Bearer:
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Pressing among the throng,
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with Resolution;
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His enemies so strong
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wrought his confusion.
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[You]r Dear receivd a stroke,
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and his brain broken,
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[And] these words then he spoke,
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carry this Token
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[T]o she whom I affect,
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and none more dearer,
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[Wi]shing her to respect,
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[a]nd love the Bearer.
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[Y]our Dear in Grave doth lye
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[i]n sumptuous manner,
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Where we will let him lye,
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in Beb of Honour:
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[By] his Right I am sent,
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[yo]ur Love to crave it,
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[By] his last Testament,
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sweet shall I have it.
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Mad, like one in despair,
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fuming and fretting,
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She mourns and tears her hair,
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on her breast beating:
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M[y] Desteny I may ban,
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and all that hears me,
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Still crying to the Man,
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do not come near me.
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This for an answer take,
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what ever chances,
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I will mourn for his sake,
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and mine offences:
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Sad black shall be my weed,
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like to my fortune,
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[H]ence it doth cut the thread,
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and my life shorten.
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Like to Phenelephes joy,
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or the sad Queen of Troy,
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So she cryd out this day,
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I am bereft of joy,
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And never man again,
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shall company bear me,
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Still crying with disdain,
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Do not come near me.
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Of all his former Love,
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he me assured,
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By all the Powers above,
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he me conjured:
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Of al[l] his promise made,
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when we last parted,
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To me he gave his Right,
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be not faint-hearted.
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His Garments he threw off,
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which him disguised,
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That when she knew her Love,
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Lord how she praised:
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Betwixt sad joy and mirth
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rose such a passion,
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Which causd no great deni[al]
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unto the Question.
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Sweet heart come tell m[e]
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since our first meeting,
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How I did Act my part
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in counterfeiting?
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Neat and brave, Sir,
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you might gain Ri[ches]
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If you could Do [the same]
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as well as Spe[eches.]
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Thrice happy be the W[ind]
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that hither broug[ht you]
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More happy be the [ship]
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on shore did land [you]
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Welcome to me, she [said]
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then fair Alexander,
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Or ever Hero was
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unto Leander.
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Like to Penelope
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to wanton Venus,
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My Love, kind heart, to thee
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shall be ingenious:
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Welcome to me, she said,
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then fair Amarillis,
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Or ever worthy Guy
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was to fair Phillis.
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When pastime it was done,
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and all things neatly,
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With joy they came along,
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siinging this Ditty;
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Singing most jovely
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till they were weary,
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Thou hast been long away,
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wellcome home Deary,
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