The Pensive Maid:
OR,
The Virgins Lamentation for the Loss of her Lover.
For seven Years space she patiently did bear
The Absence of her Love as you shall hear:
At length sad Tydings came that he was slain,
And that they never more should meet again.
Tune of, Through the cool shady Woods; Or, Deep in Love, etc.
|
When Sol will cast no light
|
all darkned over,
|
And dosesome time of night
|
the Skies did cover:
|
Down by a Rivers side
|
where Ships are sailing,
|
There a fair Maid I spied.
|
weeping and wailing.
|
I stept unto her straight,
|
dearest what grieves thee?
|
She answered me, and said,
|
none can relieve me?
|
Tis seven long years and more
|
since my Love parted,
|
And left me on this shore
|
quite broken hearted.
|
He promised to return,
|
if life was sent him,
|
Which makes me sigh and mourn,
|
death doth prevent him:
|
O that I could but hear
|
some tidings from him,
|
How it my heart would cheer,
|
[for] all my longing.
|
A young Man straight she spied,
|
like one amazed,
|
Which did a token bring,
|
whereon she gazed;
|
Where is my Love? quoth she,
|
that comes not near me.
|
The Young-man he replyd,
|
please for to hear me.
|
YOur Love and I did fight
|
under one Banner,
|
Maintaining Englands Right,
|
purchasing Honour:
|
He was a Seamon bold,
|
of courage valiant,
|
Scorning to be contrould
|
by ere a Gallant.
|
But in a dreadful Fight
|
where Guns did rattle,
|
And many a gallant Wight,
|
fell in the Battle:
|
His fatal Destiny
|
near was approaching,
|
And summond him away
|
by Deaths incroaching.
|
When he his Deaths wound had,
|
and Brains were broken,
|
To me these words he said,
|
deliver this Token
|
To her that hath my heart
|
and is more dearer,
|
Wishing her for my sake
|
to love the Bearer.
|
And having spoke those words
|
he then declined,
|
And in a Stream of Blood
|
his life resigned:
|
Leaving me full of Care,
|
sad News to bear it,
|
His death for to declare
|
as you now hear it.
|
When she the Tydings heard
|
with this sad Potion,
|
She like a Stock appeard
|
without all Motion:
|
At length her Spirits came
|
by Grief inflamed,
|
And then with Floods of Tears
|
thus she exclaimed.
|
O! ye great Powers above,
|
which life doth send us;
|
And thou the God of Love
|
that did befriend us,
|
Why have ye snatchd away
|
my dearest Sweeting,
|
And by your Cruelty
|
spoiled our meeting.
|
Since that my Love is dead,
|
whom I did tender,
|
No comfort I will take
|
but life surrender:
|
In some unwonted paths,
|
there will I wander,
|
And prove more constant
|
than eer was Leander.
|
And so vain world farewel
|
and all thy pleasure,
|
Since he is gone that was
|
my chiefest Treasure:
|
In the Elizium Shades
|
there will I hide me
|
Until I find my Love
|
what eer betide me.
|
|
|
|
|
|