The Discontented Lover.
To a pleasant new Court Tune.
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TOule, toule, gentle bell for a soule,
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Killing care doth controule,
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And my minde is sore opprest:
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But I feare I shall dye
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For a glance of that eye,
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Which so lately did flye
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Like a Comet from the skye,
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Or like some great Diety:
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But my wishes are in vaine,
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I shall never see't againe.
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When I in the Temple did spye
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This divine purity,
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On her knees to her Saint;
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Shee seem'd so divine,
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All her graces did shine
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Farre more fairer then the shrine:
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Faith I wisht shee had beene mine,
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And my heart full resigne,
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May powerfully prove
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No Religion like love.
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Faire, faire, and as chast as the aire,
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Holy Nuns breath in prayer,
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Was this Votresse divine;
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From each eye dropt a teare,
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Like the pearled violets were,
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When the spring doth appeare
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To usher in the yeare;
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But I dare safely sweare
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That those teares trickle downe
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For no sins of her own.
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But now encreaseth my woe,
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I by no meanes can know
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Where this beauty doth dwell;
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All her rites being done
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To her Lady and her Sonne,
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I was left all alone,
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And my Saint was from mee gone,
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And to Heaven shee is flowne,
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Which makes mee to say
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I can scarce live a day.
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Now I must make haste and dye,
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And ascend to the skye
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Where my hopes are inthron'd:
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You Ladyes all adue,
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Be your Loves false or true,
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I am going to view
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One that far excels all you,
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One whom I never knew;
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But must breath out my breath
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For acquaintance in death.
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The second part; To the same tune.
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RIng, ring, merry bels, while we sing,
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Drinking healths to our King,
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And our mindes all advanc'd;
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Let us never feare to dye,
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Till we drinke out each eye,
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Let cash and cana flye
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Like hailestones from the skye,
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Bacchus great Deity:
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But my wishes are but vaine,
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Fill the cans round againe.
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When I in the Taverne did spye
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Such faire boone company
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On our knees drinking healths,
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Wee looke so divine,
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When our noses did shine
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Well burnisht with rich Wine,
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Faith I wisht the cup were mine:
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Unto thee I resigne,
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And may powerfully proove
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In drinking thy love.
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Free, free, as the aire let us bee,
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Esteeming no degree,
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But to all breaths alike,
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From one eye dropt a teare,
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Lest you Maudlin appeare,
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And next morning do feare
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To be physick'd with small beere;
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But I dare safely sweare
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If a teare trickles downe,
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'Tis for love to the Crowne.
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But now encreaseth my woe,
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I by all meanes must know
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What is due for our Sack;
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But the reckoning being payd
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To the Hostes or Mayd,
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Wee need not be afraid
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To be scurvily betrayd
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To the Constables ayd:
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Let us honestly pay
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Else wee scarce get away.
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Now must I make haste and see
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What wil us all free
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All our hands from the bar;
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You Ladyes all adiew,
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Be your reckoning false or true,
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I am going for to view
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What belongeth to all you,
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Though wee pay more then our due,
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Yet my purse I will spend,
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And my life for my friend.
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