THE NEW BALOW:
OR,
A Wenches Lamentation for the loss of her Sweet-heart:
he having left her with a Babe to play her, be-
ing the Fruits of her Folly.
The Tune is Balow.
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BAlow, my Babe, weep not for me:
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Whose greatest griefs for wronging thee,
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But pity her deserved smart,
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Who can but blame her own kind heart,
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For trusting to a flattering friend;
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The fairest tongue the falsest mind.
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Balow, my babe, etc.
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Balow my Babe, ly still and sleep,
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It grieves me sore to hear thee weep:
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If thou be still I will be glad,
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Thy weeping makes thy mother sad:
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Balow, my boy, thy mothers joy,
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Thy father wrought me great annoy.
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Balow, balow, etc.
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First when he came to court my love,
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With sugred words he did me move;
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His flattering and fained chear,
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To me that time did not appear.
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But now, I see that cruel be,
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Cares neither for my babe nor me.
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Balow, balow, etc.
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I cannot choose but love him still.
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Altho that he hath done me ill,
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For he hath stolen away my heart,
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And from him it cannot depart:
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In well or wo, where ere he go,
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Ile love him though he be my fo.
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Balow, Balow, etc.
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But peace my comfort, curse not him
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Who now in seas of grief doth swim
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Perhaps of death: for who can tell,
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Whether the Judge of heaven or hell,
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By some predestinated death,
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Revenging me, hath stopt his breath.
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Balow, Balow, etc.
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If I were near those fatal bounds;
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Where he ly groaning in his wounds:
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Repeating as he pants for breath,
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Her name that wounds more deep then death
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O then what womens heart so strong
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Would not forget the greatest wrong.
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Balow, balow, etc.
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If linen lack, for my loves sake,
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Whom once I loved: then would I take
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My smock even from my body meet,
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And wrap him in that winding sheet,
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Ay me how happy had I bin,
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If he had nere been wrapt therein.
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Balow, balow, etc.
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Balow my babe, spare thou thy tears,
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Until thou come to wit and years,
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Thy griefs are gathering to a sum,
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Heaven grant thee patience till they come,
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A mothers fault a fathers shame,
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A hapless state, a bastards name.
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Balow, balow, etc.
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Be still my babe, and sleep a while,
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And when thou wakes then sweetly smile:
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But smile not as thy father did
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To cusen maids: O heaven forbid
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And yet into thy face I see
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Thy Father dear which tempted me.
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Balow, balow, etc.
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Balow my babe, O follow not
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His faithless steps who thee begot
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Nor glory in a maids disgrace,
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For thou art his too much, alace,
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And in thy looking eyes I read
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Who overthrew my maiden head.
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Balow, balow, etc.
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O if I were a maid again,
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All young mens flatteries Id refrain:
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Because unto my grief I find,
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That they are faithless and unkind,
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Their tempting terms hath bred my harm
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Bear witness babe lyes in my arm
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Balow, balow. etc.
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Balow my babe, spare yet thy tears,
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Until thou come to wit and years:
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Perhaps yet thou may come to be,
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A courteour by disdaining me:
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Poor me, poor me; alas poor me,
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My own two eyes have blinded me
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Balow, balow, etc.
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On Love and fortune I complain,
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On them, and on my self also:
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But most of all mine own two eyes
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The chiefest workers of my wo.
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For they have caused so my smart,
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That I must die without a heart,
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Balow, balow, etc.
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Balow my babe, thy Fathers dead
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To me the Prodigal hath plaid:
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Of heaven and earth regardless he
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Preferd the wars to me and thee,
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I doubt that now his cursing mind
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Make him eat accorns with the swine
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Balow, balow, etc,
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Farewel, farewel, most faithless youth
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That ever kist a womans mouth,
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Let never a woman after me,
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Submit unto the curtesie.
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For if she do, O cruel thou.
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Would wrong them: O who can tell how?
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Balow, balow, etc.
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