A Lovers teares:
OR,
The constancy of a yong mans mind,
Although his choyce be too unkind.
All you yong men who heare this Ditty,
A Lovers teares bemoane with pitty.
To the tune of Sigh, sob, and weepe.
YOu who haue run in Cupids maze,
and on fond beauties vainly gaze,
Attend while I explaine my moane,
and think my case may be your owne.
Then learne to pitty Lovers teares,
for love is full of cares and feares.
The bitter swéets that I did taste,
and borrowed hours consum'd in wast,
Makes me my friends with counsell arme
that they in time may shun like harm.
And learne &c.
A curious beauty I adore,
and must though she hate me therefore,
For now I am within the net,
at liberty I cannot get.
Then learne &c.
Ill hap had I to sée her face,
vnlesse her heart would yéeld me grace:
Her eyes had such attractiue force,
I néeds must loue without remorse.
Then learne, &c.
Her haires were Cupids chains to tie
me vnto her perpetually,
For I must loue her, tis my fate,
and be repaid with mortall hate.
Then learne to pitty Louers teares,
for love is full of cares and feares.
I thinke on her both night and morne,
which when she hears, she saies in scorn
If you be foolish, sir, must I
be bound your mind to satisfie?
And thus my sad complaints she jeeres,
for love is full of cares and feares.
She thinks her selfe too high in bloud,
and for to match with me too good,
Fond foole sayes she, art so vnwise,
to thinke that Eagles strike at flyes?
O yong men pitty Lovers teares,
for love is full of cares and feares.
Such vnequality she makes,
no pitty on my moane she takes,
The more I wéepe, the more doth she,
insult ouer my misery.
O yong men, &c.
If I to her a letter frame,
she saith she hates to reade my name,
And therefore to preuent that paine,
in scorne she sends it back againe:
Then learne &c.
If I doe méet with her by chance,
my captiu'd heart (for ioy) doth dance,
But to suppresse that ioy again,
she turnes her face with coy disdaine.
Then yong men, &c.
The second part
To the same tune.
SHe shuns my presence with hast,
then ere one word from me is past,
Shee's out of sight or out of call,
and will not heare me speake at all.
O yong men pitty Lovers teares,
for love is full of cares and feares.
Sometimes unto her maid I speake,
and she my mind to her doth breake,
Away thou silly foole quoth she,
hée's hardly good enough for thée.
O yong men, &c.
ThA's she doth striue to viliste
my name with hatefull infamy,
O note the haughty insolence
of maids in fortunes eminence.
And learne, &c.
Wer't not a shame it should be said
I woo'd the Mistresse, yet the maid
I am estéem'd scarce worthy of,
what man could beare so foule a scoffe?
Yet I with patience take these jeeres,
for love is full of cares and feares.
I would my fancy could disswade
me from the Mistresse to the maid,
But [...] alasse that may not be,
if ere I marry't must be she.
O yong men, &c.
I wish I could my heart reclaime,
from doting on this scornfull dame,
For all my sighs and all my care
are like to arrows shot i'th aire.
O yong men &c.
Suppose she be in her degrée,
(as she pretends) too good for me,
In loue the begger and the King,
coequally doe féele the sting.
O yong men &c.
It is her proud fastidious thought,
that only hath this difference wrought
For in a true impartiall eye,
there's no great odds twixt her and I.
O yong men &c.
Well, if I die as néeds I must,
Cupid grant me one boone that's iust,
That ere she wed she may be faine
a worse then I to entertaine.
O yong men &c.
And so farewell thou cruell faire,
come gentle death and end my care,
Kind yongmen learne by my behest,
to loue your enemies that's the best.
And learne to pitty Lovers teares,
for love is full of cares and feares.
M. P.
FINIS.
Printed at London for Tho: Lambert, at the sign of the Hors-shoo in Smithfield.