The Bloody GARDENER's Cruelty;
Or, The Shepherd's Daughter Betrayed.
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COME all you constant Lovers, and to me lend an Ear,
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And mind this sad Relation, which I do give you here,
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It is of a Maiden fair, a Shepherd's Daughter dear,
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But Love did prove her utter Overthrow.
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She was of beauteous Mould, fair and clear to behold,
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And by a noble Lord she courted were:
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But was too young we find, as yet fond Love to mind,
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Yet little Cupid did her Heart ensnare.
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His Parents they were all of high Degree,
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They said, she is no Match at all for thee,
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If you'd our Blessing have, grant us but what we crave,
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And wed with none but whom we shall agree.
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Dear Son, for you we have chosen out a Bride,
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With Store of Gold, and beautiful beside.
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Of a Temper kind and free, she is the Girl for me,
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But not a Shepherd's Daughter of mean Degree.
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And is you'll not by us be rui'd or led,
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You from our Presence shall be banished.
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No more we will you own, to be our only Son,
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Then let our Will be done, to end the Strife.
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Madam, said he, if a Begging I should go,
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I should be well contented so to do.
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If that I could but have, the Girl that I do crave,
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No cursed Gold should part my Love and me.
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Was she as poor as Job, and I of Royal Robe,
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And Lord of all the Globe, she should be mine.
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His Mother said in Scorn, thou art most nobly born,
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And with a Beggar's Brat shalt never join.
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He hearing of his Mother to say so,
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His Eyes did then with Tears like Fountains flow,
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Saying, a Promise I have made, and her Heart betray'd,
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Therefore no other for my Bride I chuse.
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A cruel Snare then for her Life she laid,
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And for to act this Thing, Oh! then she did,
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With her Gardiner she agreed, to do this bloody Deed,
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And Butcher her forthwith, and dig her Grave.
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To the bloody Gardiner she gave Fourscore Pound,
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To murther her, and lay her under Ground.
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All in a Grave so deep, in everlasting Sleep,
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Hoping her fair Body would not be found.
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She wrote a Letter, and sent it with speed,
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Saying, my dearest, with Haste now proceed.
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Meet me this Night my Dear, I've something to declare.
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Poor Girl, she little thought upon the Deed.
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The youthful Shepherdess of this nothing knew,
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But went to meet her true Love, as she us'd to do:
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She search'd the Garden round, but no true Love she found,
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At length the bloody Gardener did appear.
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What Business have you here, Madam, I pray?
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Are you come here to rob the Garden gay?
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Cries she, no Thief I am, but wait for a Young Man,
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Who did this Night appoint to meet me here.
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He spoke no more, but strait a Knife he took,
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And pierc'd her Heart before one Word she spoke.
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Then on the Ground she fell, crying, sweet Love, farewel.
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O welcome, welcome, Death, thy fatal Stroke.
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Was this done now my Dear, by your Design?
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Or by your cruel Parents most unkind.
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My Life is thus betray'd, farewel, vain World, she said,
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I hope in Heaven I a Place shall find.
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But when he saw her Life was really gone,
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Immediately he laid her in the Ground.
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With Flowers fine and gay, her Corpse did overlay,
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Intending that her Body should not be found.
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Now all the Time this Lord he nothing knew,
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But went to meet his true Love, as he us'd to do,
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He search'd the Vallies round, but no true Love he found,
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The little Lambs went wand'ring to and fro'.
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Lamenting greatly for their Shepherdess.
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Then he did lay him down upon the Grass.
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To the Heavens he did implore, to see his Love once more,
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Oh! then ye Gods above, I'm surely blest.
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Oh! whither shall I seek that Angel bright?
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Who is alone my Pleasure and Delight,
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Pray if alive she be, let me my true Love see,
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Or else my Soul will quickly take its Flight.
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Whereat the Woods and Groves began to mourn,
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The small Birds they did sing a mournful Tune,
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Crying, your Love is gone, and you left quite alone,
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Then on a Mossy Bank he laid him down.
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He had no sooner clos'd his Eyes to Sleep,
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But a Milk-white Dove came to his Breast,
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Her fluttering Wings did beat, which wak'd him out of Sleep,
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And then the Dove took Wing, and he was blest.
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To his Mother's Garden strait he did repair,
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For to bemoan the Loss of his own Dear.
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Here the Dove once more he see, sat on a Myrtle Tree,
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With dropping Wings disconsolate did appear.
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Oh! Dove disconsolate, why do you come?
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Have you not lost your Love, as I have done?
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That you do dodge me here, no Comfort can I bear,
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Then thus the Dove reply'd, and then flew down.
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Saying, it was your Mother order'd it so,
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Then from her Milk-white Breast the Blood did flow.
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To the Grove he did repair, but found no true Love there,
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Then homewards to his Mother he did go.
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And said, Mother most cruel and severe,
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I fear you've kill'd my Joy and only Dear.
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For a Dove I do declare did all in Blood appear.
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He said, if she is dead, her Fate I'll share.
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His Mother hearing what the Son did say,
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She turn'd as pale as Death, and swoon'd away,
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Then into Distraction run, and told what she had done,
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And where the Virgin's Body it then lay.
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He said no more, but straitways took a Knife,
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And said, Farewell to the Comforts of my Life:
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Then into the Garden flew, and pierc'd his Body through,
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And said, 'twas cursed Gold caus'd all this Strife.
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These loyal Lovers in one Tomb were laid,
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And many a briny Tear for them was shed.
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And the Gardener as we hear was apprehended there,
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And hang'd in Chains for being so severe.
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