The Woful Complaint, and Lamentable Death of
a forsaken Lover. To a pleasant new Tune.
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DOwn by a Forrest where I did pass,
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To see abroad what sports there was,
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Walking by a pleasant spring,
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The birds in sundry notes did sing,
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Long time I wandred here and there,
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To see what sports in Forrest were,
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At length I heard one make great moan,
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Saying from me all joys are gone.
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I gave good heed unto the same,
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Musing from whence this eccho came,
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And by no means I could devise,
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From whence this sorrowful sound did rise;
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But in that place I did remain,
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Until I heard it once again.
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Where presently I heard one say,
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O death come take my life away.
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I looked down on my right hand,
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A sort of pleasant trees did stand,
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And under them I did behold,
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A pleasant place with shadows cold:
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A sumptuous seat was in the same,
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Musing from whence this eccho came:
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Then in this place I did perceive
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A Gentleman most fine and brave.
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And from that place he did come down,
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Casting from him his morning Gown,
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Walking up and down that place,
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Methought a proper man he was.
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Thus to himself he did lament,
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Wishing to God his days were spent,
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His torment did increase so sore,
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His heart was able to bare no more.
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I stept into a hollow tree,
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Because I would his passion see:
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With folded arms looking to th skies,
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The tears alas stood in his eyes:
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And careless of his life he seemd,
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Pitty he was no more esteemd:
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Then down he lay upon the ground,
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No ease of sorrow could be found.
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Thus he lamented in woful case,
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Seven long years within few day,
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Saying, while I live I must remain,
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And find no help to ease my pain:
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For she that should my sorrows remove,
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She doth disdain to be my Love,
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And hath done so since she did hear,
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That I to her good will did bare.
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Ye Gods above come ease my pain,
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Sith heavy grief doth it constrain,
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For while my corps remain on earth,
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Shel shew the causes of my death:
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And every tree that here doth stand,
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Shall be engraven with mine hand:
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That they long time may witness bare,
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Love was the cause that I dyd here.
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Nature to her did so much right,
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And in as many vertues dight,
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Scorning to take the help of Art,
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As ever did imbrace a heart:
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Being so good, so truly tryd,
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O some for less were deifid:
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Full of pitty as she may be,
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And yet perhaps not so to me.
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When first I saw her pleasant face,
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Methought a pleasant sight it was:
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Her beauty took my wits away,
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I knew not how one word to say:
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A Gentleman took her to dance,
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She gallantly herself did prance,
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And kept her order in due time,
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Which made me wish she had been mine:
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But when I thought she had been my own,
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Then was she farthest from me flown,
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She gave no ear unto my cry,
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Which makes me here in sorrow dye.
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FOr she was in another mind,
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Which to my pain I often find,
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Of all my hopes I am beguild,
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Which makes me range the wood so wild.
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To silent trees I made my moan,
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And birds and beasts did hear me groan,
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Yet she that could my sorrows remove,
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Disloyal wretch to me doth prove:
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My love to her was constant pure,
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And to my end shall so endure;
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And Jove to her I hope will send
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A grieved mind before her end.
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I have forsaken friends and kin,
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My days to end these woods within,
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My pleasures past I now do leave,
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Tweet Saviour Christ my soul receive:
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Bear witness heaven of my grief,
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To ease my heart send some relief.
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Fair Maids unto your Loves be true,
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If the first be good, change not for new.
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O young men all be warnd by me,
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Gaze not too much on womens beauty,
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Lest that you be so fettered fast,
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You cannot be releast at last:
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Some womens wiles are too well known,
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In Love oft changing stick to none,
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theyl swear they love you with their heart
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When tongue and mind are both apart.
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My love to her I did reveal,
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And from her nothing did conceal,
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Though at the first she seemed coy,
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She said at last I was her joy:
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And none but I her love should have,
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What need I any more to crave:
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But Hoggard like she me abus[]d,
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Another taken, and I refusd.
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When he had bewaild his sorrows long,
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He took his Lute that by him hung,
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And on the same he sweetly plaid,
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While thereupon these words he said:
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O Death when will that hour come,
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That I have waited for so long?
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For while I live I languish still,
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Finding no help to ease my ill.
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Then quite he flung his Lute away,
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And took his sword that by him lay:
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Says, oft thou hast been thy Masters friend
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And now thou must his torments end.
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He gave true sentance in that place,
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To end his life in woful case:
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The Hilt he stuck into the ground,
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And gave himself a deadly wound,
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Then unto him I ran amain,
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But O alas it was in vain,
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For long before to him I came,
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His death he had upon the same.
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I found his grave was ready made,
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Wherein I thought he should be laid,
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And in that place I laid him down,
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And over-spread his morning Gown:
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Over his Grave his sword I laid,
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Whereby his death he had receivd,
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Upon his Lute a peal I rung,
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And by the place his Lute I hung,
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Then I beheld on every Tree,
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Her name that was his only joy;
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Which long before his face did stand,
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Because she got the upper hand.
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This Maid that did do all this wrong,
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To live a Maid thought it ore long,
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But married was to such a one,
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As daily made her sigh and groan:
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Her coyness to her former Love,
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Disloyal now doth truly prove:
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Take heed fair Maidens for you see
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Wrongs always will revenged be.
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