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EBBA 33649

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
A new Love-Song, and a true Love-Song.
Made of a Young Man and a Maiden fair,
Whose dwelling now is in Northamptonshire;
As they one evening late abroad was walking,
A young man lay unseen, and heard them talking:
To make their Complements to seem more sweeter,
Their words and actions he compos'd in Metre:
'Twas well they honest prov'd in verity,
Because Tom-tell-truth chanc'd to be so nigh.
To the Tune of, Colin and Amarillis.

LOyal Lovers listen well
To this Story which Ile tell,
Wherein I briefly will relate
what I heard rehearsed;
Between a young man and his mate
is here most neatly versed.

I walked forth one evening tide
By a pleasant greenwood side,
A pretty Couple there I spy'd,
young Cupid by them hover'd;
I saw them walk, and heard them talk,
yet I was not discover'd.

The yong man from Northampton came,
Yet Ile not declare his name,
Lest I should procure the blame
that doth attend a prater;
And in the end I make my friend
become a perfect hater.

She was a very gallant Lass,
Many maids she did surpass;
She was so fair I vow and swear,
pitty to deceive her;
And since that day I heard some say,
she was a Bone-lace-weaver.

Man.
Well met, fair Mistris, quoth the man,
Thus to courting he began;
If I may have what I do crave,
Ile not stand long disputing:
But yield to me, and thou shalt see
I'de rather be saluting.

Here's a fit convenient place,
Prethee Love let us embrace,
There's no man nigh that can us spy,
or hear what may be spoken;
Be kinde to me, and thou shalt see
Ile give thee many a Token.

Maid.
The Damsel smiling in his face,
Said, Sir, I'me fearful to embrace;
For young men are deceitful Ware,
and jears in them are reigning:
Therefore be gone, let me alone,
I do not know your meaning.

You say, convenient now it is,
There's no place set to do amiss;
Therefore I say Ile not obey,
nor yield to such delusion;
Lest at the last when pleasure's past,
it turns to my confusion.

The second Part, to the same Tune.

Man.
OH dear Love be you content,
For I am not lustful bent;
It is pure love that makes me move
such questions now unto you;
You see I stand with cap in hand,
on purpose for to wooe you.

Canst thou love me, prethee speak,
Or else my tender heart will break;
For Cupid he hath wounded me,
and made a deep incision:
My Love-sick breast can take no rest,
you have me in derision.

Maid.
Fye young man, what ado you keep,
You talk as though you wanted sleep;
Can any be in Love so free
in this our English Nation:
Love cannot make a heart to break,
but dissimulation.

Be civil Sir, and let me come,
My Mother wanteth me at home;
To stay i' th' night will her affright,
and breed a great distraction
'Twixt her and I most certainly,
because of time detraction.

Man.
Sweet-heart I have a fine Estate,
Sufficient to maintain a Mate;
Then be not coy my onely Joy,
my dearest Love and Honey:
But condescend now in the end
to joyn in Matrimony.

I am the man upon my life,
That will make thee a married Wife;
Ile give thee Rings and pretty things,
that's fit for recreation:
We'l spend the night in rare delight,
to drive away vexation.

Maid.
When she had heard what he did say,
She had no power to say him nay;
By this you know, that Goods will wooe
better then Complementing:
But this I'me sure, Love will endure,
when Lands and Goods is wanting.

Quoth she, and if you'l faithful prove,
And constant as the Turtle Dove;
I unto you will be as true,
if things may right be carried:
Then point a day without delay,
wherein we may be married.

The Conclusion.
These Lovers then were both agreed,
And homewards they return'd with speed;
With kisses sweet he did her greet,
she lovingly did take it:
They plighted troth betwixt them both,
and vow'd they'd never break it.

I hearing of this pretty jeast,
To make a Song I thought it best;
If any he shall angry be
with him that now hath penn'd it,
Let him I say, without delay
go take his pen and mend it.


Finis.
Thomas Jones.
London, Printed for Richard Burton, at the Horshooe in Smithfield.

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