A pleasant nevv Court Song, Betweene a yong Courtier, and a Countrey Lasse.
To a new Court Tune.
VPon a Summers time,
in the middle of the morne,
A bonny Lasse I spide,
the fairest ere was borne,
Fast by a standing Poole,
within a meddow greene,
She laid her selfe to coole,
not thinking to be seene.
She gathered louely flowers,
and spent her time in sport:
As if to
Cupids bowers
she daily did resort.
The fields afford content
vnto this maiden kinde,
Much time, and paines she spent,
to satisfie her minde.
The Cowslip there she cropt,
the Daffadill and Dazie:
The Primrose lookt so trim,
she scorned to be lazie,
And euer as he did,
these pretty posies pull,
She rose and fetcht a sigh,
and wisht her apron full.
I hearing of her wish,
made bold to step vnto her:
Thinking her loue to winne,
I thus began to wooe her,
Faire maide, be not so coy,
to kisse thee I am bent:
O fie, she cride, away,
yet smiling gaue consent.
Then did I helpe to plucke
of euery flower that grew,
No herbe nor flower I mist,
but onely Time and Rue.
Both she and I tooke paines
to gather flowers store,
Untill this maiden said,
kind sir, Ile haue no more.
Yet still my louing heart
did proffer more to pull,
No sir, quoth she, ile part,
because mine apron's full.
So sir, ile take my leaue,
till next we meet againe:
Rewards me with a kisse,
and thankes me for my paine.
The Second part. To the same Tune.
IT was my chance of late,
to walke the pleasant fields:
Where sweet tun'd chirping birds,
harmonious musicke yeelds.
I lent a listening eare
vnto their musicke rare:
At last mine eye did glance
vpon a Damsell faire.
I stept me close aside,
vnder a Hawthorne bryer:
Her passions laid her downe,
ore-rul'd with fond desire.
Alacke fond maide she cride,
and straight fell a weeping,
Why sufferest thou thy heart,
within a false ones keeping?
Wherefore is
Venus Queene,
whom maids adore in mind,
Obdurate to our prayers,
or like her fondling blinde:
When we doe spend our loues,
whose fond expence is vaine?
For men are growne so false,
the cannot loue againe.
The Queene of loue doth know,
best how the matter stands,
And Hymen knowes, I long
to come within her hands.
My loue best knowes my loue,
and loue repaies with hate,
Was euer virgins loue,
so much vnfortunate?
Did my loue fickle proue
then had he cause to flye:
But Ile be iudg'd by loue.
I lou'd him constantly.
I hearing of her vowes,
set bashfulnesse a part,
And striu'd with all my skill,
to cheere this maidens heart.
I did instruct her loue,
where loue might be repaid:
Could I, quoth she, find loue,
I were an hap
[...]y maid.
I straight in loue replide,
in me thou Loue shalt finde:
So made the bargaine sure,
and eas'd the Maidens minde.
FINIS.
Printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke.