The Love-Sick Maid: Or, Cordelias lamentation for the
absence of her Gerhard. To a Pleasant New Tune.
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BE gone
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Thou fatal fiery feavor, now be gone
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let Love alone,
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Let his Etherial flames posses my b[r]east,
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His fires,
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From thy consuming heat no aid requires,
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for swift desires,
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Transports my passion to a throne of rest;
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Where I,
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Who in the pride of health, did
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never feel such warmth to move;
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By sickness tam[d] am so inflamd,
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I know no joys but love.
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And he
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That trifled many tedious hours
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away, my love to try,
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In little space had gaind the grace,
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to have more power than I.
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Depart
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Thou scorching fury, quick from me depart,
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think not my heart,
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To thy dull flame shall be a sacrifice;
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A Maid
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Dread Cupid now is on thy Altar laid,
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by thee betrayd,
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A Rich oblation to restore thine eyes:
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But yet
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My fair acknowledgement will
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prove thou hast no c[r]aft,
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To bend thy Bow against thy foe,
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that aimd to catch the shaft:
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[F]or if
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[T]hat at my breast thy arrows
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thou all at once let flie,
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[Sh]e that receives a thousand sheaves,
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[can] do no more but dye.
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No more
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You learnd physicianslearnd physitians, tire your brains no more
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pray give me ore,
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Mine is a cure, in Physick never read;
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Although
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You skillful Doctors all the world doth know,
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pray let me go.
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You may as well make practice on the Dead.
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But if
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My Gerrard dain to view me
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with the glory of his looks,
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I make no doubt to live without
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Physitians and their books.
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Tis he
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That with his balmed Kisses
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can restore my latest breath;
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What bliss is this, to gain a Kiss
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can save a maid from death?
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To you
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That tell me of another world, I bow,
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and will allow
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Your Sacred Precepts, if youll grant me this,
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That he
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Whom I esteem of next the Deity,
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may go with me,
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Without whose presence there can be no bliss,
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Go teach
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Your tenets of eternity,
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to those that aged be,
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And not perswade a lovesick maid,
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theres any heaven but he.
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But stay
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Methinks an icy slumber
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hath possest my frency brain;
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Pray bid him dye if you see I
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shall never wake again.
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[The Young-Mans Answer: Or,] his Dying Breath,
Lamenting for his fair Cordelias Death.
To a Delightful New Tune.
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Come on
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thou fat[a]l messenger from her thats gone
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lest I alone
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Within that quenchless flame for ever fry;
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The Lake
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Of love being kindled, wherein nonecan take
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rest, but wake,
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Where slumber hath no power to close the eye;
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Whilst I
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That by my fair Cordelia
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desire to take a sleep,
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With lids wide spread upon my bed
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am forcd a watch to keep:
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And she
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That waited many tedious hours,
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my constancy to try,
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Is now at rest, while I opprest,
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fain would but cannot dye.
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Dispatch
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Thou scorching fury, quickly now dispatch,
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by Death I watch.
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To be releast from this tormenting flame;
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The Dart
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Sent from dread Cupid, sticks fast in my heart,
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I wanting art,
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Had not the power for to resist the same
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Though she
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Who by her late acknowledgment,
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profest thou hadst no craft,
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Yet from thy bow thou madst her know
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what power lay in the shaft:
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Put then
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Thou sentst another arrow
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which me of hopes berest,
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Most like a foe to wound me so,
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for whom no cure is left.
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Wherefore
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Did you Physitians give my mistress ore [?]
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had you no more
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Experience, but what you in books have read?
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Or why
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(You learned Doctors) did you cease to try
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your skills, when I
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Might have revivd her if shed not been dead?
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And yet
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Suppose that I in Person
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had present been to view her;
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Is there such grace in any face
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to work so great a cure?
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But now
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Im come too late to kiss her,
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which were it not in vain,
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After her death Id spend my breath
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to fetch her back again.
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Unto
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The fair Elizium thither will I go,
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whereas I know
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She is amongst those sacred ones preferd
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Then I
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Shall be admitted for to come so nigh,
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pardon ill cry
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For my long absence, wherein I have errd:
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And since
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By her I was esteemd
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so much on earth being hers,
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Hence for her sake no rest Ill take,
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till I have found her there.
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No more,
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But only I desire
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to hear my passing bell;
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That Virgins may lament the day
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of Gerhards last farewel.
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