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. M. P. (Martin Parker), d. 1656? 1634 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) : 2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B00504 STC 19251.7 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.7[188] 99884305 ocm99884305 183019

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B00504) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183019) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A5:1[101]) 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. M. P. (Martin Parker), d. 1656? 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. for Tho: Lambert, at the sign of the Hors-shoo in Smithfield., Printed at London : [1634] Signed: M.P. [i.e. Martin Parker]. Publication date suggested by STC. Verse: "You who haue run in Cupids maze ..." In two parts, separated for mounting; woodcuts at head of each part. Reproduction of original in the British Library.

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 eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. 2008-08 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-11 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2009-01 Sampled and proofread 2009-01 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
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.