The deceased maiden-louer. Being a pleasant new court-song: to an excellent new tune. Or to be sung to the tune of Bonny Nell 1628 Approx. 6 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2011-04 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2). B00374 STC 16862.1 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.7[84] 99884206 ocm99884206 182966

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B00374) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 182966) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A5:1[47]) The deceased maiden-louer. Being a pleasant new court-song: to an excellent new tune. Or to be sung to the tune of Bonny Nell 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. Printed by the assignes of Thomas Symcocke, [London] : [1628 or 9] Place of publication suggested by STC. Verse: "As I went forth one summers day ..." In two parts, separated for mounting,each with woodcut at head; the second part has caption: The faithlesse louer. Reproduction of original in the British Library.

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 eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. 2020-09-21 Content of 'availability' element changed when EEBO Phase 2 texts came into the public domain 2008-08 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-11 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2009-04 Sampled and proofread 2009-04 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-09 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The deceaſed Maiden-Louer. Being a pleaſant new Court-Song to an excellent new tune. Or to be ſung to the tune of Bonny Nell

AS I went forth one Summers day, To view the Meddowes freſh & gay A pleaſant Bower I eſpide, Standing hard by a Riuer ſide: And int a Maiden I heard cry, Alas theres none ere lou'd like I. I couched cloſe to heare her mone, With many a ſigh and heauie grone, And wiſht that I had been the wight That might haue bred her hearts delight But theſe were all the words that ſhe Did ſtill repeate, none loues like me. Then round the Meddowes did ſhe walke Catching each Flower by the ſtalke, Such as within the Meddowes grew, As Dead-mans-thumb & Hare-bel blew And as ſhe pluckt them, ſtill cri'd ſhe Alas theres none ere lou'd like me. A Bed therein ſhe made to lie, Of fine greene things that grew faſt by, Of Poplers and of Willow leaues, Of Sicamore and flaggy ſheaues: And as ſhe pluckt them ſtill cri'd ſhe, Alas theres none ere loud like mee. The little Larke-foot, ſheed not paſſe, Nor yet the flouers of Three leaud graſſe With Milkmaids Hunny-ſuckles phraſe The Crows-foot, nor the yellow Crayſe, And as ſhe pluckt them ſtill cride ſhe, Alas theres none ere lou • d like me. The pretty Daiſie which doth ſhow Her loue to phoebus bred her woe, Who ioyes to ſee his chearefull face, And mournes when he is not in place. Alacke, alacke, alacke, quoth ſhe Theres none that ever loues like me. The flowers of the ſweeteſt ſcent, She bound them round with knotted Bent And as ſhe laid them ſtill in bands, She wept ſhe waild, and wrung her hands Alas, alas, alas, quoth ſhe. Theres none that euer lou'd like me. Falſe man (quoth ſhe) forgiue thee heauen As I do wiſh my ſinnes forgiuen: In bleſt El • zium I ſhall ſleep, when thou with peiurd ſoule ſhalt weepe: Who when they liued did like to thee, That lou'd there loues as thou doſt me. When ſhée had fild her apron full Of ſuch ſweet flowers as ſhe could cull, The gréen Leaues ſerud her for her Bed The Flowers pillowes for her head. then down ſhe lay, nere more did ſpeak alas with loue her heart did breake. FINIS.

Printed by the Aſſignes of Thomas Symcocke.
The Faithleſſe Louer. To the ſame Tune.

VVHen I had ſeen this Virgins end, I ſorrowed as became a friend, And wept to ſee that ſuch a maid, Should be by faithleſſe loue betraid, But woe (I feare) will come to thee, That was not true in loue as ſhe. The Birds did ceaſe their harmony, The harmleſſe Lambes did ſeem to cry: The Flowers they did hang their head, The Flower of Maidens being dead, Whoſe life by death is now ſet free. And none did loue more deare then ſhe. The Bubling Brooks did ſeem to mone And Eccho from the vales did grone: Dianaes Nimphs did ring her knill, And to their Queene the ſame did tell: Who vowed by her chaſtitie That none ſhould take reuenge but ſhe. When as I ſaw her corpes were cold, I to her louer went and told, What chance unto this Maid befell, Who ſaid, Im glad ſhe ſped ſo well, D'ée thinke that I ſo fond would be To loue no Maid but onely ſhe: I was not made for her alone, I take delight to heare them mone: When one is gone I will haue more. That man is rich that hath moſt ſtore: I bondage hate I muſt liue free, And not be tide to ſuch as ſhe. O Sir remember then (quoth I) The power of heauens all ſeeing eye, Who doth remember vowes for got, Though you deny you know it not: Call you to minde this maiden free, the which was wrōgd by none but thée Quoth he I haue a loue more faire Beſides ſhe is her Fathers heire: A honny Laſſe doth pleaſe my minde, That unto me is wondrous kinde: Her will I loue and none but ſhe, Who welcome ſtill ſhall be to me. Falſe minded man that ſo would proue Diſloyall to thy deareſt Loue: Who at her death for thee did pray, And wiſht thee many happy day. I would my Loue would but loue me, Even halfe ſo well as ſhe lou • d thée. Faire Maidens will example take, Young men will curſe thee for her ſake: Theyle ſtop their eares unto our plaints, And call us deuils ſeeming Saints: Theyle ſay to day that we are kind, To morrow in another minde. FINIS.

Printed by the Aſſignes of Thomas Symcocke.