EBBA 30591
British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
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THE
Deceiver deceived:Or, The Virgins Revenge.
Those that in Loves wide Grove delight to range,
And please themselves with pretty charming change,
Delight to triumph ore the softest spoiles
Of yielding Beauty, seldome scape the toiles,
For Love to take them has a thousand wiles.
Tune of, Ah cruel bloody fate! This may be printed, R. LS.
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Man.
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AH cruel Maid give ore
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to punish him with scorn
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Who has for you in store
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a flame as bright as morn.
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Come dear be kind the Powrs of Love
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their Virtues misimployd
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To make with such care, a Creature so fair
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if not to be enjoyd.
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Maid.
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Tell me no more; in vain
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will all your Courtship prove
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I smile to hear you feign
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a false pretended love:What Grave is free from broken vows
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to yielding Virgins made
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whom you let languish in their anguish
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when to Love betrayd.
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Man.
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Its true some gentle hours
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I trifld in their arms
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Yet no sweet face but yours
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coud make me own its Charms
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The feeble Beauties they displaid
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each moment seemd to wast
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But yours my delight, is so dazling bright
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it must for ever last;
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Maid.
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So flatterd your smooth Tongue
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so were your looks addrest
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Such smiles about you hung
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such liking you exprest;
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To those whose senceless hearts you gaind
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those now that mourn their fate
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In being undone, by trusting too soon
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though sighs are breathd too late.
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Man.
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Thats their own fault, in hast
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to entertain a flame,
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Which in their cheeks coud blast
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Th Lillies and Roses stain:Disarm them of those killing beams
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which in your eyes appear
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Those eyes which are bright, those eyes by whose light
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my course, love bids me steer.
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Maid.
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In vain you try my heart
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no Conquest there youl gain,
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Too feeble is your art
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to make me suffer pain,
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You seek a triumph there in vain
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no Trophy you shall boast
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But in what so fain you woud now obtain
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you shall be ever crost.
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Man.
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Such cruelty cant live
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within so fair a breast
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A milder sentence give
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to me with love opprest,
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O to a flame that burns like mine
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some speedy Cordial ply
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Or he that till now, Love never made bow
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for love of you must dye.
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Maid.
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No more of love to me
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though you in earnest were
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As deaf as Seas Ide be,
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for love ide give despair
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Revenge the wrongs the softer sex
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sustain by your false wiles
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Revenge false man, the Nymph thats un-done
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by your deluding smiles.
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Man.
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Just is your doom bright maid
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just the disdain you show
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With scorn for scorn im paid
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the powrs thus let me know
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What tis to sigh and pine for love
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since I unmoved coud see
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Beauties with tears & their tender fears
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kind Virgins sigh for me.
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FINIS.
Printed for J. Clark, W.
Thackery and T. Passinger.
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