Flora's Farewel: Or,
The Shepherds Love Passion Song.
Wherein he doth greatly Complain
because his Love was spent in vain.
To a Delicate Tune; Or, A thousand times my love commend.
|
FLora farewel, I needs must go,
|
for if with thee I longer stay,
|
Thine eyes prevail over me so,
|
I shall grow blind and loose my way.
|
Same of thy beauty and thy same,
|
to seek for love me hither brought,
|
But when in thee I found no truth,
|
it was no boot for me to stay.
|
Now i'm ingag'd by word and Oath,
|
a servant to anothers will,
|
Yet for thy sake would forgo both,
|
woudst thou before to love me still.
|
But what assurance can I have,
|
of thee who seeing my abuse,
|
In that which Love desires to crave,
|
may leave me with a just excuse.
|
For thou must say, 'twas not thy fault,
|
that thou didst so unconstant prove,
|
Thou wert by mine example taught,
|
to break thy Oath and leave thy Love.
|
No Flora, no, I will recall
|
the former words which I have spoke,
|
And thou shalt have no cause at all,
|
to hamper me in Cupids yoak.
|
But since thy Honour is to range,
|
and that thou bear'st a wavering mind,
|
Like to the Moon with the il'e change,
|
and turn I can with every wind.
|
Henceforth blind fancy i'le remove,
|
and cast all sorrow from my heart,
|
Young men to dye for doting love,
|
I held it but a foolish part.
|
|
|
|
|
The Second Part to the Same Tune
|
WHy would I to one love be bound,
|
and fix my thoughts on none but thee
|
When as a thousand may be found ,
|
that's far more fair and fit for me.
|
Though I am but a Shepherd swain,
|
my mind to me doth comfort bring,
|
Feeding my flock upon a plain,
|
I truimph like a petty king.
|
No Female Rat shall me deceive,
|
nor catch me by a craft wild,
|
Though I do love, yet I can leave,
|
and will no longer be beguil'd.
|
Flora, once more, farewel adieu,
|
I so conclude my Passion song:
|
To thy next love see that thou prove true,
|
for thou hast done me double wrong.
|
Fair Flora's Answer to the Shep-
|
herds Song,
|
Wherein she shows that he
|
hath done the wrong.
|
FYE Shepherd, fye thou are to blame,
|
to rail against me in this sort,
|
Thou dost disgrace a Sweet-hearts name,
|
to give thy Love a false report.
|
There was a Proverb used of old,
|
and now I find it is no lye,
|
One tale is good till another's told,
|
she that loves most to least set by.
|
A brief Description I will tell,
|
of thy favour, love and flattery;
|
And how at first thou didst excel,
|
with cunning tricks and pollicy.
|
But O that flattering tongue of thine,
|
and tempting eye sought to entice,
|
And to ensnare the heart of mine,
|
and bring me in fools Paradice.
|
When thou at firstbegan to Wooe,
|
and with thy skill my patience try'd;
|
You thought there was no more to do,
|
but presently to up and ride.
|
Thou said'st that I was fair and bright,
|
and fitting for the Marriage Bed;
|
Thou fed'st my fancy with delight,
|
thinking to have my Maiden-head:
|
But when thou saw'st thou could'st not get
|
the jem that thou disirest to have,
|
My company thou didst refrain,
|
like to a false dissembling knave.
|
Whereby I answered thus and said,
|
to shun the cause of further strife;
|
I would contain myself a Maid,
|
until such time I was made a wife.
|
And since you my mind have crost,
|
you may bestow you as you will,
|
Shephard darewel, there's nothing lost,
|
I am resolv'd to say so still.
|
Blind Cupid with his wounding Dart,
|
could never make me sorrow feel,
|
I'le not lay that unto my heart
|
as others shake off with their heel.
|
|
|
|
|