The Lamentation of Cloris
For the Unkindness of her SHEPHERD.
SHEWING,
How she by her Strephon was strangely Beguil'd,
And is almost Destracted for want of a Child:
But if any brisk Ladd will come her to Imbrace,
She's free, can they find a convenient place.
To the Tune of, O Cloris awake,&c.
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MY Shepherd's unkind,
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alas, what shall I do?
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Who shall I direct
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my sad Speeches unto?
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Whilst in secret I mourn,
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for the loss of my dear,
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Down from my poor eyes,
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drops many a Tear.
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He takes much delight,
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with his flocks for to keep,
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And minds not poor Cloris,
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who for him doth Weep:
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But in vain I lament
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for I plainly do see,
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It is all one to him,
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what becometh of me.
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In the morning he's gone,
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before I'm awake,
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Then I miss my dear Shepherd,
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my heart it doth ake:
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The Sighs and the Groans,
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by myself I do fetch,
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Would move him to pitty
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a sorrowful wretch.
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The second part, to the same Tune.
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At night he doth think
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for to make me amends,
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And with his fair looks,
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for to make us good friends:
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But alas, he's so weary,
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he cannot be kind,
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And this adds great sorrow,
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to my pensive mind.
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But I have no hopes,
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that I e're shall injoy
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As the fruits of my labour,
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a Girl or a Boy:
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Which so much I desire,
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but I fear all in vain,
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For my Strephon's unkind,
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which doth make me complain.
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But if thus he continues,
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i'le tell you my mind,
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I'le find out some friend:
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who knows how to be kind:
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For I'm sure flesh and Blood,
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long cannot endure,
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The pain that I feel,
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without looking for cure.
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When I walk in the fields,
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not thinking of harms,
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And meet but a woman,
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with a Babe in her arms:
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It tormenteth me more,
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then my tongue can relate,
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Which makes me deplore
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my too riged fate.
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Well Strephon thy fore-head
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I will certainly graft,
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With a large pair of horns,
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yet do't with such Craft,
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Thou shalt never be the wiser,
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and when this is done,
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I fear not to bring thee
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a Daughter or Son.
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And for my so doing,
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can any me blame,
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If they do but consider,
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what a scurrilous Name,
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Poor women receive
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that no Children do bear,
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Though the fault be their husbands
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such dry souls they are.
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Besides I am young,
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and my Nature requires
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A lusty young Ladd,
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for to please my desires:
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Yet I have as little,
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of Lovers Content,
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As ever had woman,
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which makes me lament.
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Then pitty poor Cloris,
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all you that injoy
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The content of your hearts,
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and do frequently toy,
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With your Lovers in private
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and use Venus Game,
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For you cannot deny,
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but my shepherd's to blame.
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