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EBBA 33422

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
The Bashful Virgin:
OR,
The Secret Lover.
Cupid hath wounded her unto the heart
Which makes her feel a Love tormenting smart
Yet she (poor heart) is loath for to discover
Her real grief unto her dearest Lover,
At lenth she courage takes and doth reveal
What she long time intended to conceal.
Tune of, I am so deep in Love, or Little Boy, etc.

O What a pain it is
to be a Lover,
Being deny'd the bliss
for to discover:
Blind Cupid with his Dart
hath wrought my anguish,
Yet dare I not impart
for whom I languish.

I feed a flame within
which so torments me,
That it both pains my heart
and yet contents me,
It's such a pleasing smart
and I so love it,
That I had rather dye
than once remove it.

But he for whom I grieve
shall never know it,
My tongue shall ne're discry
nor my eyes show it:
Not a sigh nor a tear,
my grief discloses,
But they fall silently
like dew on Roses.

But to prevent my Love
for being cruel,
My hearts the Sacrifice
as 'tis the fuel,
And whilst I suffer this
to give him quiet,
My faith rewards my Love
though he deny it.

ON his eyes will I gaze
and there delight me,
Whilst I conceal my flames
no frowns can fright me,
To be more happy I
dare not aspire,
Nor can I fall more low
mounting more higher.

But words they are but wind
I cannot bear it,
Perhaps he may be kind
although I fear it,
To him I must impart
for whom I languish,
Or love will break my heart
with grief and anguish.

Dear love regard my grief,
do not prove cruel
Cupid hath plaid the thief
and stoln a Jewel:
My heart it is the prize
now in thy keeping,
Wounded by thy fair eyes
which caus'd my weeping.

My modesty excuse,
blame higher powers
Though Maidens do not use
for to turn woers,
Yet I had better speak
truth to discover,
Then that my heart should break
whilst Love I smother.

With blushes on my cheek
I do reveal it,
That I do love thee dear
ile not conceal it:
Though Virgin-bashfulness
now doth restrain me,
Regard my heaviness
do not disdain me.

Love hath consum'd me so
whilst I was silent,
That I am worn with woe
my pains so violent,
Let pity move thy heart
now to requite me,
And I will do my part
for to delight thee.

With charms of Love my dear
I will endeavor,
Thy heart all times to cheer
both now and ever:
No harms shall thee annoy
whilst I imbrase thee,
If thou wilt be my joy
Ile ne're disgrace thee.

Therefore consider sweet
how I invite thee.
Let our affections meet,
do not thou slight me:
Answer me lovingly
to my desire,
Lest I with sorrow dye
in Cupids fire.


London Printed for W. Thackery, T. Passenger, and W. Whitwood.

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