The woful Complaint and Lamentable
Death of a Forsaken Lover. To pleasant New Tune.
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DOwn by a Forrest as 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 wandered 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 shaddows cold.
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A sumtuous 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 torments did increase so sore,
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His heart was able to bear 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 armes, looking to th Skies,
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The tears, alas, stood in his eyes.
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And carless 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 days;
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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 griefs 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 bear.
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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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Shell shew the causes of my death.
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And every Tree that here doth stand,
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Shall be ingraven with my hand,
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That they long time may Witness bear,
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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 embrace a heart.
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Being so good, so truly tryd
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O some for less were Deifyd;
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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 stepts all in due time,
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Which made me wish she had been mine.
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But when I thought shed been mine own,
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Then was she furthest 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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F[Or] she [was i]n [anothe]r [min]d,
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Which to my pain I often find,
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Of all hopes I am beguild,
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Which makes me walk the woods so wild.
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To silent Trees I made my moan,
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The 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 did 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 forsake,
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And of the world my leave I take.
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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 a 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 connot be releast at last.
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Some womens wiles are too much known,
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In love once changing stick to none;
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They swear they love you with their heart,
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When tongue and mind are both a part.
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My love to her I did reveal,
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And nothing from her did conceal;
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Though at first she seemed coy,
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She said I was her only 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 abusd,
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Another taken and I refusd
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When hed bewaild his sorrows long,
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H[e t]ook his Lute that by him hung
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And on the same he sweetly playd,
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While there upon 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 hast thou been thy masters friend,
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And now thou must his torment end.
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He gave true Sentence in that place,
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To end his life in woful case;
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The hilt he struck 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 Maiden that did 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 dayly 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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