The Forlorn Lover,
Declaring how
A Lasse gave her Lover three slips for a teaster,
And marryed another a week before Easter.
To a pleasant new Tune.
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A Week before Easter
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the dayes long and clear,
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So bright is the Sun,
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and so cold is the aire,
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I went into the Forrest
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some flowers to finde there,
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And the Forrest would y[i]eld me no Posies.
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The Wheat and the Rye
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that groweth so green,
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The Hedges and Trees
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in their severall coats,
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Small Birds do sing
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in their changeable notes,
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But there groweth no Strawberies nor Roses
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I went into the Meadow
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some time for to spend,
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And to come back agen
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I did fully intend,
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But as I came back
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I met with a friend,
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And twas Love was the cause of my mourning.
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I loved a fair Lady
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this many a long day,
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And now to requite me
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she is marryed away,
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Here she hath left me
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in sorrow to stay,
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But now I begin to consider.
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I loved her deer,
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and I loved her well,
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I hated all people
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that spake of her ill,
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Many a one told to me
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what she did say,
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But yet I would hardly beleeve them.
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But when I did hear
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my Love askt in the Church,
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I went out of my seat
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and sate in the Porch,
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I found I should falsly
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be left in the lurch,
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And thought that my heart would have broken.
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BUt when I did see
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my Love to Church go
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With all her bride-maidens
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they made such a show,
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I laught in conceit
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but my heart was full low
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To see how highly she was regarded
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But when I saw my Love
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in the Church stand,
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Gold ring on her finger
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well seald with a band:
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He had so indued her
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with house and with land,
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That nothing but Death can them sunder
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But when her Bride-maidens
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were having her to bed
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I stept in amongst them
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and kissed the Bride.
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I wished I might have been
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layd by her side,
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And by that means I gave me a favour.
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When she was laid in bed,
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drest up in white,
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My eyes gusht with water,
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that drowned my sight,
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I put off my hat
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and did bid all good night,
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And adue my Deer sweeting for ever.
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Oh! digge me a grave
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that is wide, large, and deep,
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With a turf at my head
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and another at my feet.
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There I will lye
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and take a long sleep:
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Ile bid her farewel for ever.
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She plighted her faith
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to be my fair Bride,
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And now at last hath
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me falsly decryd,
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Ile leave off my wrath,
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and with God be my guide
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To save me from such another
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I pitty her case
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much more than my own,
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That she should imbrace
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and joyn hands in one,
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Whilst I am her true love
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and daily do groan,
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My sorrow I cannot smother.
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Though Marriage hath bound her
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shee is much to blame,
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And though he hath found her,
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her Husband I am,
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Hereafter twill wound her
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that shee put mee to shame,
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When Conscience shall be her accuser.
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Two Husbands shee hath
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by this wilde miscarriage
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The one by a Contract,
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the tother by Marriage.
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She doth her whole family
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grossely disparage.
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But I will not plot to misuse her.
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Beware all young men,
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of Arts, or of Trades,
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Chuse warily when
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you meet with such Maids
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Youd better live single,
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alone in the shades,
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Than so to love such an Abuser.
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