Loves Lamentable Tragedy
When true Lovers prove unkind,
great sorrows they procure,
And such strange pains the slighted find,
that they cannot endure.
[...] TEnder hearts of London City,
[...] now be mov'd with grief and pitty,
[...] since by Lov [...] I am undone;
[...] Now I languish in mine anguish,
[...] too too soon my heart was won.
By him I am strangely slighted,
In whom I so long delighted,
he unkindly shews disdain;
And my grief is past relief,
alas! my heart will break with pain.
Damon you my passion knew well,
How then could you be so cruel?
first my heart to set on fire;
[...]
[...]
Come and see me as I'm lying,
Bleeding for your sake and dying,
yet my Ghost shall trouble you,
When I depart with, broken heart,
then all your comforts bid adieu.
Thou shalt never be contented,
But by night and day tormented,
since thou wert so false to me:
Celia dying, thus lay crying,
[...]
Down her Cheeks the tears did trickle,
Blaming Damon too too fickle;
till her tender heart was broke;
Discontented thus she fainted,
yielding to Death's fatal stroke.
When this news to him was carried,
All his joys were spoyl'd and marred,
and his heart was fill'd with pain;
Still expressing, what a blessing,
he had lost by his disdain.
The Young-man's Answer.
Oh! ye powers be kind unto me,
Else my sorrows will undo me,
I am so perplext in mind;
I deny'd her, and defy'd her,
that was loving, chaste and kind.
Now methinks I'm strangely daunted
By her Ghost I shall be haunted,
wheresoever I do go,
I shall see her, mine own dear.
since I wrought her overthrow.
Thus he pausing stood, and thinking
Looking as if he were sinking,
while his countenance grew pale,
Death come ease me, quickly seize me
for methinks my Spirits fail.
In his conscience he was wounded,
And his senses were confounded,
tears ran trickling from his Eye;
But his sorrow, pierc'd him thorow,
then he vow'd for love to dye.
Then his joynts began to shiver,
Straight he walks into the River,
there to build his watry Tomb,
Often crying, and replying,
Celia now I come, I come.
FINIS.
Licensed and Entred according to Order
Printed for I Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt spur-Street.
Loves Lamentable TRAGEDY,
When cruel Lovers prove unkind,
Great sorrows they procure;
And such strange pains the slighted find,
That they cannot endure.
To a pleasant new Play-house Tune.
Tender hearts of London City,
Now be mov'd with grief and pitty
since by love I am undone:
Now I languish in mine angish
too too soon my heart was won.
By him I am strangly slighted,
In whom I so long delighted:
he unkindly shews disdain,
And my grief is past relief,
alas! my heart will break with pain.
Damon you my passion knew well,
How then could you be so cruel?
first my heart to set on fire:
Then to leave me, and deceive me,
when I granted your desire.
Come and see me as I'm lying,
Bleeding for your sake and dying,
yet my Ghost shall trouble you,
When I depart with, broken heart,
then all your Comforts bid adieu.
Thou shalt never be contented,
But by night and day tormented,
since thou wert so false to me:
Celia dying, thus lay crying,
I will be a plague to thee.
Down her Cheeks the tears did trickle,
Blaming Damon too too fickle,
till her tender heart was broke:
Discontented thus she fainted,
yielding to Death's fatal stroke.
When this News to him was carried,
All his joys were spoill'd and marred,
and his heart was fill'd with pain;
Still expressing, what a blessing,
he had lost by his disdain.
The Young-man's Answer.
Oh! ye powers be kind unto me,
Else my sorrows will undo me,
I am so perplext in mind;
I deny'd her, and defy'd her,
that was loving, chast and kind.
Now methinks I'm strangely daunted
By her Ghost I shal be haunted,
wheresoever I do go,
I shal see her, mine own dear,
since I wrought her overthrow.
Thus he pausing stood, and thinking
Looking as if he were sinking,
while his countenance grew pale,
Death come ease me, quickly seize me
for methinks my Spirits fail.
In his Conscience he was wounded,
And his Senses were confounded,
tears ran trickling from his Eye:
But his sorrow, pierc'd him thorow,
then he vow'd for love to dye.
Then his ioynts began to shiver,
Straight he walks into the River,
there to build his watry Tomb,
Often crying, and replying,
Celia now I come, I come.
FINIS.