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The Willow Tree.


From the small black-letter collection, entitled


Golden Garland of princely Delights;" collated with two other copies, and corrected by conjecture.


How now, shepherde, what meanes that?

Why that willowe in thy hat?

Why thy scarffes of red and yellowe

Turn'd to branches of greene willowe?


They are chang'd, and so am I;

Sorrowes live, but pleasures die :

Phillis hath forsaken mee,

Which makes me weare the willowe-tree.



Phillis! shee that lov'd thee long?

Is shee the lass hath done thee wrong ?


Shee that lov'd thee long and best,

Is her love turned to a jest?


Shee that long true love profest,

She hath robb'd my heart of rest:
For she a new love loves, not mee;


Which makes me wear the willowe-tree.


Come then, shepherde, let us joine,
Since thy happ is like to mine:

For the maid I thought most true

Mee hath also bid adieu.


Thy hard happ doth mine appease,
Companye doth sorrowe ease:

Yet, Phillis, still I pine for thee,

And still must weare the willowe-tree.


Shepherde, be advis'd by mee,
Cast off grief and willowe-tree:
For thy grief brings her content,
She is pleas'd if thou lament.




Herdsman, I'll be rul'd by thee,
There lyes grief and willowe-tree :


Henceforth I will do as they,
And love a new love every day.


The Lady's Fall,

Is given (with corrections) from the Editor's ancient folio MS. collated with two printed copies in black-letter; one in the British Museum, the other in the Pepys collection. Its old title is, "A lamentable ballad of the Lady's fall." To the tune of In pescod time, &c. The ballad here referred to is preserved in the Muses Library, 8vo. p.281. It is an allegory or vision, entitled The Shepherd's Slumber, and opens with some pretty rural images, viz.

"In pescod time when hound to horn

Gives eare till buck be kil'd,

And little lads with pipes of corne

Sate keeping beasts a-field.

"I went to gather strawberries

By woods and groves full fair," &c.

MARKE well my heavy dolefull tale,

You loyall lovers all,

And heedfully beare in your brest

A gallant ladyes fall.

Long was she wooed, ere shee was wonne,

To lead a wedded life,

But folly wrought her overthrowe

Before shee was a wife,


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Too soone, alas! shee gave consent

And yeelded to his will,

Though he protested to be true,

And faithfull to her still.


Shee felt her body altered quite,

Her bright hue waxed pale,

Her lovelye cheeks chang'd color white,


Her strength began to fayle.

Soe that with many a sorrowful sigh,
This beauteous ladye milde,

With greeved hart, perceived herselfe

To have conceived with childe.


Shee kept it from her parents sight
As close as close might bee,

And soe put on her silken gowne

None might her swelling see.

Unto her lover secretly

Her greefe she did bewray,

And, walking with him hand in hand,
These words to him did say :

Behold, quoth shee, a maids distresse

By love brought to thy bowe,

Behold I goe with childe by thee,

Tho none thereof doth knowe.

The litle babe springs in my wombe
To heare its fathers voyce,



Lett it not be a bastard called,

Sith I made thee my choyce:

Come, come, my love, perform thy vowe

And wed me out of hand;

O leave me not in this extreme

Of griefe, alas! to stand.

Think on thy former promises,
Thy oathes and vowes eche one;
Remember with what bitter teares

To mee thou madest thy moane.
Convay me to some secrett place,
And marry me with speede;
Or with thy rapyer end my life,
Ere further shame proceede.




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