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EBBA 35702

Beinecke Library - Michell-Jolliffe
Ballad XSLT Template
The Last Lamentation,
OF THE
Languishing Squire:
OR,
Love Overcomes all Things.
To the Tune of Billy and Molly: Or, Jockey's Jealousie.
Licensed according to Order.

AS I went forth to view the Spring,
which Flora had Adorned,
In gorgeous Rayment every thing,
a Winters rage out-scorned;
I cast mine Eye and did espy
a Youth, that made great Clamour,
And drawing nigh, I heard him cry,
it's Omnia vincit Amor.

Upon his Face he lay along,
hard by a Chrystal River,
And mournfully his doleful Song,
with sighs he did deliver;
Wo worth her Face, her comely Grace,
for which no man can shun her,
Her splendid Rays cuts off my days,
for Omnia vincit Amor.

Her Chrystal Eyes like Comets fair,
bright Phoebus Beams out-shining,
Hath caught my Heart in Cupids Snare,
and makes me dye with pining;
Fond foolish Nature did not well,
so curiously to frame her,
Her Beauty fair makes me despair,
cry Omnia vincit Amor.

You Chrystal Streams that sweetly glide,
be Partners of my Mourning,
You fragrant Fields and Meadows wide,
condemn her for her scorning;
Let e'ery Tree a Witness be,
how justly I may blame her,
You chanting Birds, note these my Words,
it's Omnia vincit Amor.

I sigh and languish for her sake,
ten thousand Griefs are growing,
My fainting Heart I find will break,
while dying Tears are flowing;
Here do I find her most unkind,
therefore I needs must blame her,
Her Beauty bright destroys me quite,
it's Omnia vincit Amor.

Love Conquers more than Sword or Shield
or any Warlike Power;
Renowned Kings are forc'd to yield,
no strong Defenced Tower
Can e'er withstand Love's armed Band,
and now I here must name her,
Fair Cynthia she hath ruin'd me,
Omnia vincit Amor.

Had she been kind as she is fair,
she might have been admired,
In every place without compare,
who hath my Death conspired.
This said, his breath began to fail,
he could not speak but stammer,
Ae sighted sore, and said no more,
Omnia vincit Amor.

Thus I perceived him near his Death,
and ran in haste to save him,
But quickly he resign'd his Breath,
so deep a Wound Love gave him;
Thus for his sake, this Vow I'll make,
my Tongue shall still Defame her,
Upon his Herse, I'll write this Verse,
it's Omnia vincit Amor.


Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Black.

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