CROMLETs LILT,
To be sung with its own proper Tune:
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SInce all thy Vows, false Maid,
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are blown to Air;
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And my poor Heart betrayd
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to sad dispair;
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Into some Wilderness,
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My grief I will express,
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And thy hard Heartedness,
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O cruel Fate.
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Have I not graven our Loves,
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on every Tree:
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In yonder Warden Groves,
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though false thou be;
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Was there not a solemn Oath
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plighted between us both;
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Thou thy Faith, I my Troth,
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real to be?
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Some gloomy Place Ill find,
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some doleful shade,
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Where neither Sun nor Wind
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neer Entrance had.
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Into that hallow Cave,
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Myself I would down leave,
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For that Thing I do crave,
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calld Constancy.
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Wild Fruit shall be my Meat,
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Ill drink the Spring.
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The Earth shall be my Seat;
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I for covering,
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Ill have the starry Skie,
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My Corps to canopie.
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Till my Soul from me flie
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to Heavens King.
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Ill have no Funeral Fire,
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no tears for me,
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No Grave do I desire,
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no Obsequie;
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The courteous Red-breast he
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With Leaves will cover me,
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And sing my Elegie,
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with doleful Voice.
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And when I Soul-less am,
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Ill visit thee:
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O thou obdurest Dame,
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whose Cruelty
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Hath killd the kindest Heart,
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Eer piercd by Cupids Dart,
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No Grief my Soul shall part
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from loving thee.
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Her REPLY,
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HE whom I must affect,
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doth me disdain,
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His causeless Disrespect
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makes me complain,
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Wherefore Ill me address
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into some Wilderness.
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Where unheard Ill express
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my anxious Pain.
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Did we not both conjure,
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by Stygian Lake;
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That sacred Oath most pure,
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the Gods did take;
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That we should both prove true,
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You to me, I to you.
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By that most solemn Vow
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we both did make.
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But thou perfidiously
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didst violate
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Thy Promise made to me,
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to my Regrete.
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For all the great Respect,
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Wherewith I the affect,
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Is paid with such Neglect,
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Loves turnd to Hate.
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What Tyrrant eer could hatch,
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though, Inhumane,
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A torturing Rack, and match
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to this my Pain:
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O barbarous Cruelty,
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That I for loving thee,
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Should basely murderd be
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by thy Disdain.
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Ill go find out a Cell,
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where Light neer shind;
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There Ill resolve to dwell,
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and be confind,
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Untill it pleaseth thee,
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With Love to pity me,
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Forsake thy Cruelty
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and prove more kind.
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In that dark Vault Ill call
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for Bats and Owls,
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The Scriech-Owl, worst of all
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Prodigious Fowls,
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Shall be my Mate by Day,
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By Night with her Ill stay,
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In dark and uncouth Way,
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mongst wandring Souls.
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And in that strange Exile
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Ill thee arrest,
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Amongst those Monsters vile,
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to be my Guest.
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Untill that thou relent,
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And thy hard Heart repent;
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Freely to give Consent
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to my Request.
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No Clothes shall deck my Skin,
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no Raiment soft;
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But Hair cloth rough and thin,
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thats comely wrought:
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No Bed will I ly on.
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My pillow shall be Stone,
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Each Accent prove a Groan,
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repeated oft,
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No danty Dish Ill eat,
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composd by Art:
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No Sauces for my Meat,
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sweet sour or tart.
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My Food shall be wild Fruits,
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Green Herbs and unboild Roots,
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Such as poor Hermits eat
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in wild Desarts.
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All Solace, Mirth and Game
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I will despise,
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A doleful Mourning then,
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with watring Eyes.
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Shall be my Musick sound,
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Till all the Hills resound,
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And fill the Valleys round
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with piteous Cries.
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Yet for all this Ill not
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abandon thee,
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Nor alter in a Jot
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my first Decree;
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But in Despite of Fate,
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Thy Grief to aggravate,
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Ill love thee, tho thou hate,
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until I die.
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Another Reply.
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ALL my desires are past,
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sadly I groan,
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O! All my Hopes are past,
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pity my Moan:
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Ill to some quiet Grove,
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Where I shall clearly prove,
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That I am wrongd by Love
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O cruel Fate!
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Deplorable is my State,
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still more and more;
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Im subject to cruel Fate,
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I mourn therefore:
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Yet Ill be constant still,
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Let Fortune frown as it will,
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Heavens keep him from all Ill,
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whom I adore.
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Grief added unto Grief,
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each Day I die,
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I can find no Relief,
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where shall a fly?
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Ill to some desart Place,
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Where none shall see my Face,
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There Ill bewail my Case
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until I die.
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Silent Ill be a while,
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hopping the best,
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Fortune perhaps may smile,
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and send me Rest:
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I will expect the End,
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And on my Fates attend,
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The Gods some Help will send
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to one distrest.
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Ill to a Hermitage,
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for I do see
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Nought in this present Age,
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but Miserie.
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There none will me molest,
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I will not be opprest,
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But will find quiet Kest
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untill I die.
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Vain Hopes I bid adieu,
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for theyer not sure:
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Farewel now Fortune true,
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for Im secure;
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Far from the Frowns of Fate
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And undeserved Hate,
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Far better is my State,
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than was before.
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