THE TRUE
Lovers Lamentable Overthrow,
OR, THE
Damosels Last Farewell.
Who lately Dyed with grief for the Loss of her Dearest Love, who was the joy of her
Life.
You Damsels all both far and near,
Come to her Silent Tomb,
And pay to her a Pearled Tear.
As Flowers of Perfume.
This may be printed, R.L.S.
To the Tune of, Cruel Bloody Fate.
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YOu Parents all attend,
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see what of late befell,
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It is to you I send
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these Lines my last Farewell:
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My dismal state, I do relate,
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for why my love was pure,
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My Parents frown'd, and gave a wound
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that none but Death can cure.
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Alas! with very grief,
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my Tender Heart will break,
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Since I have no relief[,]
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nor none will pitt[y t]ake:
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In wooful plight both day and night,
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this grief I do endure,
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I feel the smart of Cupids Dart,
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that none but Death can cure.
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The Damsel still reply'd
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my Dear, whom I adore,
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The Heavens be his Guide,
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I ne're shall see him more:
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The Tears fell from her eyes
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her Love was perfect pure:
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Unhappy state my grief is great,
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there's none but death can cure.
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He lov'd me as his life,
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as I did often find,
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But this began the strife,
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my friends was too unkind,
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I was contrul'd since hateful Gold
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their hearts did so allure,
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And do sustain such grief and pain,
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that none but death can cure.
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This grief none can remove,
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I now am in despair,
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The cruel pains of Love
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is more then I can bear:
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My Spirits fail I here bewail,
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the grief I here endure,
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No hope I have my life to save,
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there's none but death can cure.
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Her Parents standing by,
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and hearing her lament,
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Did willingly comply,
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and freely gave consent
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To be his Bride whater'e betide,
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and make the matter sure,
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Unhappy state, 'tis now too late,
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for none but death can cure.
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They sent for him with speed,
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but when he did come there,
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His very heart did bleed,
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he tore his Locks of Hair:
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His passion great none can relate,
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his Love was likewise pure,
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Her heart was broke, the fatal stroak,
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of cruel death must cure,
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Her joys was fully flown,
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she found she could not live,
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Now all that was her own,
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to him she'd freely give:
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In token of her tender Love,
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and her affections pure.
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He wept to see her destiny,
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that none but Death could cure.
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Her Life they could not save,
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her sorrows did excell,
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Her hand to him she gave,
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and said my love farewell:
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Now for thy sake, my heart will break,
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I cannot long indure,
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This cruel pain which I sustain,
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there's none but death can cure.
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What multitudes of tears,
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her dear beholders spent,
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Her sighs had fill'd their ears,
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and made their hearts relent:
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Sweet death said she, now set me free,
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my pains I can't endure,
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Then with his Dart he pierc'd her heart
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and made a perfect cure.
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