Early Related: Nelly's Constancy; Jealous Lover
[Check:
'Love in Despair.' A new song much in request, sung with its own proper tune
2 "Picking Lilies", from a chap-book Four Excellent New Songs (quoted in Logan's Pedlar's Pack,
p. 336), c. 1782. old broadside ballad that was known under the titles "The Unfortunate Swain", "Picking Lilies" and "The Maid's Complaint". http://archive.org/stream/scotsmusicalmuse06john#page/582/mode/2up
3 "The Distressed Virgin" by Martin Parker, printed by F. Coles (fl. 1642-62). To be found in the
Roxburgh Ballads (Ballad Soc.), vol. I, p. 277, and Hindley's Roxburgh Ballads, vol I, p. 360
"The Forsaken Lover" (to the tune of "Farewell thou Flower of False Deceit") B.M. 11621 k.4,
vol. I, p. 425, single sheet broadsides. Illustrated with a figure in a costume of c. 1650. This of course
gives no idea of the date of the broadside, except that it cannot be earlier than c.]
-------
Some Experiences of a Folk-Song Collector
Author(s): Kate Lee
Source:
Journal of the Folk-Song Society,
Vol. 1, No. 1 (1899), pp. 7-12+16-25
Published by: English Folk Dance + Song Society
2I
7.-Primroses.
Sung by Mr. COPPER.
?4 II , ;I ! . ! '. J->
_d9
As I rode out one Midsummer's morning
For to view the fields and to take the air
Down by the banks of the sweet primroses,
There I beheld a most lovely fair.
I says, " Fair maid, where are you a-going,
Or what's the occasion of all your grief ?
I will make you as happy as any lady;
If you will grant me once more relief."
Three long steps I stepped up unto her
Not knowing how, I stepped up to her.
Thinking for to view her; she says, "I Stand off!
You are deceitful and a false young man."
For it's you that's causing my poor heart to wander
And to give me comfort, lies all in vain."
Then I'll go down in some lonesome valley,
Where no man on earth shall me never find,
Whe
4.-The Bonny Irish Boy.
iA ' -i I ! >. . r
Oh ! once was I courted by a bonny Irish boy,
He called me his jewel, his hope and his joy,
In fair Dublin city, that place of great fame,
My bonny Irish lad, he first a-courting to me came.
His lips were red as cherries, and his hair was lovely brown,
And the curls upon his forehead they so carelessly hung down,
His cheeks were red as roses and his eyes were black as sloes,
Complete in every feature, and as sweet as any rose.
Up lanes and through meadows, how oft we'd wend our way,
Oh!I my bonnie Irish lad and I would frequently stray,
Where the fiow'rs around were springing, and the lark ascending high;
My bonny lad would sing there with a voice melodiously,
He told me that he loved me and he promised me to wed,
But in a short time after this, away from me he fled,
To England he posted and he crossed o'er the main,
And left me a poor deserted lass to sigh and to complain.
Twenty long weeks did I sigh and I did grieve,
For losing of my bonny lad that did me so deceive,
Although I did hear he to England had took flight,
So I packed up my clothes and I followed him straight.
When I arrived in far London town,
I found that he was married to a maiden of renown,
Now, lasses all believe me, that my poor heart will break-
Beware of all false bonny Irish lads, for my sake !
Words and tune noted down from the singing of Mrs. MAINWARING BODELL,
of Lloyd's Square, Clerkenwell.
-----------------
West Country Damsel's Complaint Child 292
Alas! she dy'd for love of me,
The loveliest she in nature! `
-----------------
[See also Nelly's Constancy 1686]
Baring Gould's notebook
E. The Broken hearted Lover’s Garland circa 1740. Song IV “Nell’s Constancy to a new Tune. O.G. I. p. 103.
I lov’d you dearly I loved you well
I loved you dear(ly) no tongue can tell.
You love another, you love not me
You care not for my company.
You love another, I’ll tell you why
Because she hath more means than I.
But means will waste love & means will fly
In time thou mayest have no more than I.
If I had gold (Love) thou shouldst have part
But as I’ve none (Love), thou hast my heart.
Thou hast my heart (Love) & free good will,
And in good troth I love thee still.
How often has your tongue this told,
You loved not for silver nor gold,
And thus to me you did impart,
And your desire was my heart.
Your tongue did so enchant my mind
Still I am & forever must be kind:
Though you prove false, yet I am true,
And so I’ll bid false men adieu.
------------------
The Treasury of Musick- by H. Lawes 1669
attributed Nicholas Lanier
Stay, Silly Heart, and do not break,
But give a Lover leave to speak,
To tell a tale that stones may move
To pity me that dies for Love.
Thy Heart is harder far than flint,
And will not suffer Cupid’s print;
But beats his arrows back to Jove,
But which, alas! I die for Love.
When I am gone, true lovers mourn,
Deck all your heads with withered corn,
Wear on your hand a Sable Glove,
To testify I died for Love.
Then bear me softly by her door
And there with mourning heads deplore,
Cry loud, look down you pow’rs above,
On her that slew me for her love.
Then in an unfrequented cave
Where fairies haunt, prepare my grave
Among wild satyrs in a grove
That they may sing, I died for love.
Last, build my tomb of lovers’ bones,
Set round about with marble-stones,
My Scutcheon bearing Venus Dove,
My epitaph, I died for love.
CONTENTS:
1. Nelly's Constancy
2. Notes: Ebsworth
3. Jealous Lover (also The Seaman's Answer.)
4. Arthur's Seat
5. Belfast Maid's lamentation for the loss of her sweetheart
6. The Constant Lady and False-hearted Squire; Oxfordshire Tragedy [see: Love has brought me to despair]
7. The Diseased (Deceased) Maiden Lover
8 The Faithless Lover. [2nd part]
9. A Forlorn Lover’s Complaint
Pittman's Love Song [John bell/ A.L. Llyod] I Wish
Arthur's Seat
DESCRIPTION: The singer is poor and forsaken. She fantasizes: "I will to some other land Till I see my love will on me rue" She wishes she had never been born or died young. She wishes her baby were born and she were dead. She waits for Death to end her weariness.
AUTHOR: unknown
EARLIEST DATE: c.1701 (broadside, NLScotland Ry.III.a.10(056))
KEYWORDS: poverty courting pregnancy nonballad
FOUND IN: Britain(Scotland(Aber))
REFERENCES (3 citations):
Child 204 Appendix, "Arthur's Seat Shall Be My Bed, etc., or, Love in Despair" (1 text)
GreigDuncan6 1167, "Arthur's Seat" (1 text)
ADDITIONAL: Alfred M. Williams, _Studies in Folk-Song and Popular Poetry_, Houghton Mifflin, 1894, pp. 92-93, "Arthur's Seat Shall Be My Bed, or Love in Despair" (1 text)
Roud #6851
BROADSIDES:
NLScotland, Ry.III.a.10(056), "Arthur's Seat Shall be my Bed, &c." or "Love in Despair," unknown, c.1701
CROSS-REFERENCES:
cf. "Waly Waly (The Water is Wide)" (lyrics: two verses)
cf. "Jamie Douglas" [Child 204] (lyrics: one verse)
NOTES: The two verses shared with Child's text of "Waly, Waly, Gin Love Be Bony" are neither common floaters nor verses shared with "Jamie Douglas": one is the title verse ("Now Arthur-Seat shall be my bed ....") and the other the Martinmas wind reference ("Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blow ...).One verse ("Oh, oh, if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee, And I myself were dead and gone! For a maid again I'le never be") is shared with Child 204 A, C and E. - BS
It is interesting to find this in Aberdeenshire. The best known Arthur's Seat is in Holyrood Park in Edinburgh. - RBW
-----------
________________________
Magdalene College - Pepys 5.217
An excellent New Song, Call'd, NELLY'S Constancy, OR, Her Unkind Lover:
Who, after Contract of Marriage, leaves his first Mistress, for the sake of a better Fortune
To a pleasant New Tune: or, Languishing Swain. Licensed according to Order.
I Lov'd you dearly, I lov'd you well,
I lov'd you dearly, no Tongue can tell,
You love another, you love not me,
You care not for my Company.
You love another, I'll tell you why,
Because she has more Means than I.
But Means will wast Love, and Means will fly,
In time thou mayst have no more than I.
If I had Gold Love, you should have part,
But as I've none Love, thou hast my Heart,
Thou hast my Heart Love, & free good Will,
And in good troth I love thee still.
How often has your Tongue this told,
You lov'd not for Silver nor Gold;
And this to me you did impart,
All you desired was my Heart.
Your Tongue did so inchant my Mind,
Till I for ever must be kind,
Though you prove false, yet I am true,
And own I am undone by you.
What makes young Men be thus unkind,
To gain Maids Loves, then change their mind,
As here I find it to my Grief,
He's stole my Heart, Stop Thief, stop Thief.
My Heart you have, go where you will,
And though you leave me I love you still,
But had I sums of Gold in store,
You'd Court me as you did before.
'Tis Money is your chiefest aim,
All Women else would be the same:
Oh! what a World is't we live in,
No true love can be found in Men.
Although you do another take,
And leave your first Love's Heart to break,
It pleases me to dye for Love,
And do a faithful Virgin prove.
Then my Advice is to each Maid,
Be careful least your Heart's betray'd:
Believe not all young Men do say,
They'll vow they'll Love, yet go their way.
Like my dear love that Courted me,
Who's wed another and gone to Sea,
Yet I a Sailor Boys love still,
And none but such shall gain my Will.
Then call a Boat, Boys, unto the Ferry,
For we are come, Boys, for to be merry,
It shall ne're be said, Boys, when we are dead,
But the jolly Sailors are rarely bred.
Printed and Sold by Charles Barnet.
--------
“An Excellent New Song, Called Nelly's Constancy; or, Her Unkind Lover. Who, after Contract of Marriage Leaves His First Mistress, for the Sake of a Better Fortune.” 1686
[Pepys Collection, V. 217. Apparently unique.
To A Pleasant New Tune; or, Languishing Swain. [See pp. 27, 283.]
Licensed according to Order.
I lov'd you dearly, I lov'd you well,
I lov'd you dearly, no tongue can tell.
You love another, you love not me,
You care not for my company.
You love another, I'll tell you why,
Because she has more means than I,
But Means will waste, Love, and Means will fly;
In time thou may'st have no more than I. 8
If I had gold, Love, you should have part,
But as I've none, Love, thou hast my Heart:
Thou hast my Heart, Love, and free good will,
And in good truth I love thee still.
How often has your tongue this told,
You lov'd [me] not for silver nor gold;
And this to me you did impart,
All you desired was my Heart. 10
Your tongue did so inchant my Mind,
Till I for ever must be kind,
Though you prove false, yet I am true,
And own I am undone by you.
What makes young Men be thus unkind,
To gain Maids' loves, then change their mind?
As here I find it to my grief,
He's stole my Heart, Stop Thief! Stop Thief! 24
My Heart you have, go where you will,
And though you leave me I love you still;
But had 1 sums of gold in store,
You'd court me as you did before.
'Tis Money is your chiefest aim.
All Women else would be the same.
Oh! what a world is't we live in,
No true love can be found in Men! 32
Although you do another take,
And leave your first Love's Heart to break,
It pleases me to dye for Love,
And do a faithful Virgin prove.
Then my advice is to each Maid,
Be careful lest your Heart's betray'd:
Believe not all young Men do say,
They'll vow they'll Love, yet go their way. 40
Like my dear Love that courted me,
Who's wed another, and gone to Sea,
Yet I a Sailor Boy love still,
And none but such shall gain my will.
Then call a Boat, boys, unto the ferry,
For we are come, Boys, to be merry,
It shall nere be said, boys, when we are dead,
But the Jolly Sailors are rarely bred. 48
Printed and Sold by Charles Barnet. [In White-letter. Date, e. 1686.]
----------
[same from] The Roxburghe Ballads, Volume 8
By William Chappell
IN this final volume of Roxlurghe Ballads it is expedient to re-unite J. the long-severed links of each broken and entangled chain. 'The False-hearted Young Man' was sung to the tune of The Languishing Swain. This we identified, beginning, "Down by the side of a fair christiul fountain" (sic), and reprinted it in vol. vi, p. 29, 1886. It was not unique, for at a later date we found another exemplar (Jersey, II, 89=Lindes., 321), which supplied the lost colophon, viz. 'Printed for J. Beacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street'; consequently the date was 1684, or soon after.
First.—The original 'False-hearted Young Man; or, The Injured Maiden,' to the tune of The Languishing Swain, begins "Why should 1 not complain on thee?" It was printed by and for Aflex.] M[ilbotirne], and dated 1697. We give it on a later page. It has been hitherto unattainable.
Second.—Its direct sequel, here first reprinted, from one of the two editions of the same A. M. and P. Pelcomb's broadsides, viz. ' The Distracted Young Man's Answer to the Injur'd Maiden.' To the same tune. Probably thii ended the Story (A). Seep. 114. So far all was clear, but confusion now arose through the rivalries of ballad-publishers.
Third.—Either a continuation, or a distinct story, our Soxburghe Ballad of 'The Paithtul Mariner,' on board the liritannia in the Straits (Reprinted in vol. vi, p. 793, with variations noted), beginning, "Fair Isabel, of beauty bright, to thee in love these lines I write." To the tune of the False-hearted Young Man, or, The Languishing Swain. Scarcely could the antecedent and original 'Fnlse-hearted Young Man' be identical with the Seaman-lover of Isabel, unless in her he is addressing the rich wife whom he has married before he went to sea. More probably it is a self-complete Story (B.).
Fourth.— (Whether a distinct third story as a fresh continuation) we reach 'Nelly's Constancy to her Unkind Lover,' who, after contract of marriage, leaves his tirst mistress for 'the sake of a better fortune.' It begins, "1 lov'd you dearly, I lov'd you well" (reprinted from the unique original in vol. vi, p. 791). To the same tune of The Languishing Swain. Is it a sequel to 'The Faithful Mariner,' and Isabel the same as Nelly? Surely not. Or is this forsaken Nelly the same as the ' Injured Maiden' of the first ball.d, where in obedience to his covetous father the "False-hearted Young Man" has married a richer bride than the girl to whom he had been plighted, and who still loves him? It is possible. Charles Iiarnct published it.
Confusion grows apace, for T. Staples comes forward with an unmistakable sequel to ' Nelly's Constancy ' in ' The Seaman's Answer to the Unkind Lover.' (This, also, we reprinted, in vol. vi, p. 792, beginning, 'Fair Maid, you say you lov'd me well, and 1 believe it, honest Hell I' It retains the tune-name of The Languishing Swain, but gives antecedently the newly alternative tune-name of I lov'd you dearly, etc.
Fifth and Sixth.—With this isolated tune-name, I lov'd you dearly, now displacing the other tune-name, Languishing Swain. In 'The Seaman's Complaint for his Unkind Mistress at Wapping,' and its sequel, 'The Young Woman's Answer to her Former Sweet-heart,' we have 'a new departure. It is the woman who has been prevailed on by parents to be false to her true-love, and has married a rich spouse, with similar unhappiness to the Celia of the 'Forced Marriage' series on pp. 1S9 to 193. A distinct Story, but enfoicing the same moral against wedding for lucre, given complete on pp. 433-4.
---------------------
EBBA 22191Magdalene College - Pepys 5.367
The Jealous Lover:
OR,
The Damosel's Complaint of her Seaman's
Unkindness; together with his Chearful Answer after all her Sorrow. To a new Tune, much in request.
Farewel my love, farewel my dear,
No longer may I tarry here;
On board this morning I must go,
This is unwelcome news I know.
Will you be gone and leave your love?
Will you unkind and cruel prove?
Will you be gone, love, and leave me alone?
Then I'll lay me down and make my moan.
Why will you slight and leave me now?
Why will you thus forget your vow?
Tarry at home, on shore, with me,
I'd rather loose my life then thee.
Your love does ebb and flow I find,
'Tis more unconstant then the wind;
Now prithee dearest let me know
What is the cause it shou'd be so?
Once you told me you lov'd me well,
That, none but your heart and tongue can tell;
You love another, you love not me,
And care not for my company.
You love another, the reason why,
Because she's got more gold then I;
But gold will wast, and silver fly,
In time she may have as little as I.
Have I not seen a morning gay,
Bring forth a dark and cloudy day;
So may this wealth become a snare
To those that most unconstant are.
Your gold and silver it is dross,
And love, if I must bare the loss,
Of thee, because I have not gold,
This shews hot love is quickly cold.
Can'st thou so soon be drawn away?
Can heaps of gold thy conscence sway?
[If] so, farewell to loyalty,
Thy unkind frowns will ruin me.
If I had gold, love, thou should'st have part,
As I have none, dear, thou hast my heart;
Thou hast my heart, and free good will,
I vow and swear I love thee still.
Tho' thou hast caus'd me to complain,
Tho' thou shoud'st kill me with disdain;
'Tis all a case, love, thou shalt find,
That I will never change my mind.
If I might have a lord or earl;
Might I be deck'd with orient pearl,
I'd part with all for thee, my love,
Unkind to thee I'd never prove.
Shall heaps of gold and silver bright,
Cause me to wrong my heart's delight?
No, while I have a day to live,
A loyal heart to thee I'll give.
They shall as soon the rocks remove,
As the foundation of my love;
Since I so constant do remain,
Return me love for love again.
The Seaman's Answer.
MY dearest love forbear to weep,
My former solemn vows I'll keep;
No Riches in the world shall make,
Me in the least my love forsake.
This ring, my dear, I'll leave with you,
The posie of the same is true;
Pure love is better worth then gold,
In which there's blessings manifold.
O call the boat, love, unto the ferry,
For I came hither to be merry;
It shall ne'er be said, love, when we are dead,
That jolly seamen are basely bread.
LONDON: Printed for C. Bates, at the
sign of the Sun and Bible in Pye-corner.
__________________
http://digital.nls.uk/broadsides/broadside.cfm/id/14523
between 1701 and 1726
Arthur's-Seat Shall be my Bed, &c.
OR, Love in Despair
A New Song much in Request,
Sung with its own proper Tune.
Come lay me soft, and draw me near,
and lay thy white hand over me,
For I am starving in the cold,
and thou art bound to cover me;
O! cover me in my Distress,
and help me in my, Miserie,
For I do wake when I should sleep,
all for the love of my Dearie.
My Rents they are but very small
for to maintain my Love withall
But with my Labour and my Pain,
I will maintain my Love with them
O Arthur's Seat shall be my Bed,
and the Sheets shall never be fil'd for me
St. Anthony's well shall be my Drink,
Since my, true Love's forsaken me.
Should I be bound that may go free?
should I Love them that Loves not me?
I'le rather travel into Spain,
where I'le get love for love again;
And I'le cast off my Robs of Black;
and will put on the Robs of Blue?
And I will to some other Land,
till I see my Love will on me rue.
It's not the Cold that makes me cry,
nor is't the Weet that wearies me:
Nor is't the Frost that freezes fell:
but I love a Lad, and I dare not tell.
O Faith is gone, and Truth is past:
and my true Love's forsaken me,
If all be true that I hear say,
I'le mourn until the day I die.
Oh! if I had ne're been born,
than to have dy'd when I was young.
Then I had never wet my Cheeks,
for the Love of any Womans Son.
Oh, oh! if my young Babe were born,
and set upon the Nurses Knee,
And I my self were dead and gone,
for a Maid again I'le never be.
Martinmass wind when wilt thou blow,
and blow the green leafs of the Tree,
O! gentle Death when wilt thou come,
for of my Life I am wearie.
FINIS.
------------------------
The Belfast maid's lamentation for the loss of her sweetheart, To which are added, Gentlemen rakes of the town. The humours of Rosemary Lane. The whistling daughter. Pady O Blarney. Wine is commander.
Printer: J. & M. Robertson
Date printed: 1803
THE BELFAST MAID’S LAMENTATION.
Come all you pretty maids, take warning by me.
And let not love affect you in any degree,
For I was cross’d in love, and love it was my pain.
By a handsome youth that has cross’d o’er the main.
O that I was a little bird, or had I wings to fly,
I’d to the field of battle go and on him I would lie.
With my flutt’ring wings his bleeding wounds I’d clean,
And on his lovely bosom I’d ever remain,
But now my love’s gone, I’ll wander and roam.
Thro’ each lonesome valley making my moan,
The small birds of the bushes will join and pity me,
Since I have loft my jewel and him I’ll never see.
Ye maidens take pity on a poor wretched maid,
"Who’s with grief afflicted, by Cupid’s dart betray’d;
Ye gods of love assist me my burning love to quench,
I’m wounded by a young man that’s gone to fight the French.
His lips are like the coral, his cheeks like the rose.
His skin is like the lilly, his eyes are black as sloes,
He’s proper, tall and handsome in every degree,
He has cross’d the wide ocean to face his enemy.
If to the field of battle my darling he goes,
Guardian angels protest him from his daring foes,
May he be crown’d with laurels the boy that I adore,
And may I live to fee him in Belfast town once more.
If by the cruel French my darling should be slain,
Then for ever single for his fake I will remain,
To no mortal man breathing will I give my hand.
Until I fee my jewel in his own native land.
O what a misfortune took him from his place,
I with I’d ne’er beheld his beautiful fine face.
The words that pass’d between us on our parting day,
I never will deny it, he stole my heart away.
He said to me my jewel, come along with me,
As we are young and airy and from all danger free,
And whilst you are by me no danger would I fear,
But hark! the trumpet founds, so farewel my dear
-----------
The Maid's Lamentation for the Loss of Her Sweetheart
----------
Sukey's Lamentation for the Loss of her Sweetheart,
----------------
The Constant Lady and false-hearted Squire; Being a Relation of a Knight’s Daughter near Woodstock Town in Oxfordshire
To A New Tune [second half-line, As I walk'd forth to take the air*].
NEar Woodstock town in Oxfordshire, as I walk'd forth to take the air,
To view the fields and meadowa round, methought I heard a mournful sound.
Down by a crystal river side, a gallant Bower I espied,
Where a fair Lady made great moan, with many a bitter sigh and groan.
"Alas!" (quoth she), "my Love's unkind; my sighs and tears he will not mind;
But he is cruel unto me, which causes all my misery.
"My Father is a worthy Knight, my Mother is a Lady bright;
And I their only child and heir: yet Love has brought me to despair.
"A wealthy 'Squire lived nigh, who on my beauty cast an eye;
He courted me, both day and night, to be his Jewel and Delight.
"To me these words he often said : ' Fair, beauteous, handsome, comely Maid,
Oh! pity me, I do implore, for it is you whom I adore.'
'' He still did beg me to be kind, and ease his love-tormented mind;
'For if,' said he, 'you should deny, for love of you I soon shall die.'
"These words did pierce my tender heart: I soon did yield, to ease his smart;
And unto him made this reply: 'For love of me you shall not die.'
'' With that he flew into my arms, and swore I had a thousand charms;
He call'd me Angel, Saint: and he, for ever true to me would be.
"Soon after he had gain'd my heart, he cruelly did from me part;
Another Maid he does pursue, and to his vows he bids adieu.
"'Tis he that makes my heart lament, he causes all my discontent;
He hath caus'd my sad despair, and now occasions this my care."
The Lady round the meadow run, and gather'd flowers as they sprung;
Of every sort she there did pull, until she got her apron full.
"Now there's a flower," she did say, " is named Heart's-ease, night and day;
I wish I could that flower find, for to ease my love-sick mind.
"But oh, alas! 'tis all in vain for me to sigh and to complain;
There 's nothing that can ease my smart, for his disdain will break my heart."
The green ground served as a bed, and flowers, a pillow for her head;
She laid her down, and nothing spoke: alas! for love her heart was broke.
But when I found her body cold, I went to her false love, and told
What unto her had just befel: "I 'm glad," said he, "she is so well.
"Did she think I so fond could be, that I could fancy none but she?
Man was not made for one alone; I took delight to hear her moan."
O wicked man! I find thou art, thus to break a Lady's heart:
In Abraham's bosom may she sleep, while thy wicked soul doth weep!
* Note.—This second 'Oxfordshire Tragedy' is not in the Roxburghe Coll. It was sung to a well-known tune (see Popular Music, p. 191; sung also to "As our King lay musing on his bed"—our vol. vi, p. 744). It is deceptive in its later issue as a ' Garland' (Douce Coll., III, 70 verso, and Lindes., 865); yet thus reprinted in the Kalional English Airs, 1838, p. 123, viz. Four Parts.
A Second Oxfordshire Tragedy.
[Thee Second Part, To The Same Tune.]
A Second Part I bring you here, of the Fair Maid of Oxfordshire,
Who lately broke her heart for love, of one who did inconstant prove.
A youthful 'Squire, most unjust, when he beheld this Lass at first,
A solemn thousand vows he made, and so her yielding heart betray'd.
She mourning broke her heart, and dy'd, feeling the shades on every side;
With dying groans and grievous cries, as tears were flowing from her eyes.
The beauty which did once appear on her sweet cheeks, so fair and clear,
Was waxed pale; her life was fled: he heard at length that she was dead.
He was not sorry in the least, but cheerfully resolv'd to feast;
And quite forgot her beauty bright, whom he so basely ruin'd quite.
Now when, alas! this youthful Maid within her silent tomb was laid,
The Squire thought that all was well, he should in peace and quiet dwell.
Soon after this he was possest with various thoughts, that broke his rest;
Sometimes he thought her groans he heard, sometimes her ghastly Ghost appear' d,
With a sad visage, pale and grim, and ghastly looks she cast on him;
He often started back, and cry'd: "Where shall I go, my self to hide?
"Here I am haunted, night and day: sometimes, methinks I hear her say:
'Perfidious man! false and unkind, henceforth you shall no comfort find.'
"If through the fields I chance to go, where she receiv'd her overthrow, Me tli inks I see her in despair, and, if at home, I meet her there.
"No place is free of torment now: alas! I broke a solemn vow,
Which once I made; but now, at last, it does my worldly glory blast.
"Since my unkindness did destroy my dearest love and only joy,
My wretched life must ended be: now must I die and come to thee."
His Rapier from his side he drew, and pierc'd his body thro' and thro';
So he dropt down in purple gore, just where she did some time before.
He buried was within the grave of his true-love. And thus you have
A sad account of his sad fate, who died in Oxftrdshire of late.
London: Printed for E. B. near Fleet-Street. [White-letter. Date, circa 1686.]
[Here was concluded the ballad-story of the Oxfordshire Knight's Daughter and her False-hearted Squire. It needed not the two other Parts that were conjoined to it, when issued as a ' Garland.' 'The Lover's Farewell' is a new departure, being the former case reversed, a distinct story; its own sequel is * The Lady's Lamentation.' It had appeared earlier in Black-letter (Pepy's Collection, III, 379), and we borrow the full title. The first and second stanzas of the 'Farewell' were, in 1688, with music by Robert King, published under a different title, viz. 'The Jealous Lover' (p. 54 of our Bagford Ballads). It is better, to avoid all misunderstanding, for us to reprint here the whole continuation, but with a preliminary caution that it is a distinct ballad from the one preceding. The tune is named on p. 412. R. B.=Richard Baldwin. The third and fourth parts were added, as a contrast to the first narrative, to lengthen it and double the price. The third part, also the fourth, her 'Lamentation,' was twice issued as a separate ballad; exemplars of each being preserved in the Pepysian Collection, viz. Vol. III, p. 379, and V, 315: both distinct from Pep. Coll., V, 285. This is the true solution of the enigma, which had eluded the late William Chappell.]
----------
The Diseased (Deceased) Maiden Lover printed by Coles, Vere and Wright c1663-74. (Pepys Vol 3, p124)
The Diseased Maiden Lover
1663
The diseased maiden Lover: Being a pleasant new Song,
to an Excellent New Tune, Or, may be sung to the Tune of, Bonny Nell.
[illustration]
AS I went forth one Summers day,
To view the Meddows fresh and gay,
A pleasant Bower I espy'd,
Standing hard by a Rivers side.
And in't I heard a Mayden cry,
Alas there's none e're lov'd like I.
I couched close to hear her moan,
With many a sad and grievous groan,
And wisht that I had been the wight
That might have bred her hearts delight:
But these were all the words that she
did still repeat, none loves like me.
Then round the Meddowes did she walk,
Catching the Flower by the stalk,
Such as within the Meddows grew,
As Dead-mans thumb and Hare-bell blew.
and as she pluckt them still cry'd she,
alas there's none e're lov'd like me.
A bed therein she made to lye,
Of fine gréen things that grew fast by,
Of Poplers and Willow leaves,
Of Sicamore and Flaggy sheaves:
and as she pluckt them, &c.
The little La•k-foot shée'd not pass,
Nor yet the Flowers of thrée-leav'd grass
With Milk-Maids Hony-suckles phrayse
The Crows-foot, nor the yellow Craise:
and as she pluckt them, &c.
The pretty Dafie which doth shew
Her love to Phoebus, bred her woe,
Who joys to sée his cheerful fare,
And mourns when he is not in place:
alack, alack▪ alack, quoth she,
there's none that ever Lov'd like me.
The Flowers of th• swe•test scent,
She bound them round with k1otted Bent,
And as she laid them still in bands,
She wept, she wail'd and wrung her hands
alas, alas, alas, &c.
False man, quoth she, forgive thee heaven,
As I do wish my sins forgiven,
In blest Elezium I shall sléep,
When thou with periur'd souls shalt wéep.
Who when they liv'd, did like to thee,
That lov'd their loves as thou dost me.
When she had fil'd her Apron full,
Of such sweet Flowers as she could cull,
The green leaves serv'd for a bed,
The Flowers pillows for her head:
Then down she lay▪ ne'r more did speak,
Alas, with Love her heart did break.
FINIS.
------
The Faithless Lover.
To the same Tune.
WHen I had séen this Virgins end,
I sorrowed as became a friend,
And wept to see that such a Maid
Should be by faithless love betray'd:
But woe I fear will come to thee,
That was not true in Love as she.
The birds did cease their harmony,
The harmless Lambs did seem to cry,
The Flowers they did hang their head,
The flower of Maidens being dead;
Whose Life by death is now set free,
and none did love more dear then she.
The bubbling brooks did seem to moan,
And ecchoes from the Vallies did groan,
Diana's Nymphs did ring her knell,
And to their Quéen the same did tell:
Who vowed by her chastitie,
That none should take revenge but she.
When as I saw her corps were cold,
I to her Lover went and told,
What chance unto this Maid befell,
Who said I am glad she sped so well:
Do you think that I so fond would be,
To love no Maid but onely she.
I was not made for one alone,
I take delight to hear them moan;
When one is gone, I will have more,
That man is rich that hath most store.
I bondage hate, I must live free,
And no• be ty'd to such as she.
O Sir remember then (quoth I)
The power of Heavens All-séeing eye;
Who doth remember vows forgot,
Though you deny you know it not:
Call to your mind this maiden free,
The which was wrong'd by none but thee.
Quoth he, I have a love more fair,
Besides, she is her fathers heir,
A bonny Lass doth please my mind,
That unto me is wondrous kind:
Her will I love, and none but she,
Who still shall welcome be to me.
False-minded man that so would prove,
Disloyal to thy dearest love,
Who at her death for thée did pray,
And wisht thée many a happy day:
I would my Love would but love me,
Even half so well as she lov'd thee.
Fair Maidens will example take,
Young men will curse thee for her sake,
They'l stop their ears unto our plaints,
And call us Divels seeming Saints:
They'l say to day that we are kind,
To morrow of another mind.
FINIS.
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright.
-----------------------
A Forlorn Lover’s Complaint
Robert Johnson c. 1611
D’Urfey’s Pills to Purge Melancholy, 1720, Vol 3 p52 has
AS I walk'd forth one summers day,
To view the meadows green and gay,
A pleasant Bower I espied,
Standing fast by a River side ;
And in't a Maiden, I heard cry,
Alas ! Alas ! there's none e'er lov'd as I.
Then round the meadow, did she walk,
Catching each flower by the stalk :
Such flowers as in the meadow grew,
The Dead-man's Thumb, an Herb all blew,
And as she pull'd them, still cry'd she,
Alas ! Alas ! none ever lov'd like me.
The Flowers of the sweetest scents,
She bound about with knotty Bents,
And as she bound them up in Bands,
She wept, sigh'd, and wrung her hands,
Alas ! Alas ! Alas ! cry'd she,
Alas ! none ever lov'd like me.
When she had fill'd her Apron full,
Of such green things as she could cull,
The green leaves serv'd her for a Bed,
The Flowers were the Pillows for her head :
Then down she laid, ne'er more did speak ;
Alas ! Alas ! with Love her heart did break.
Lovt'
-----------------------
Three or more editions of this ballad, on the hard-heartedness of men, are extant. Perhaps the earliest in point of date is the Boxburghe copy, published by the assigns of Thomas Symcocke, and the second the Pepys edition (I. 360), printed for J. Wright. There are three more in the Bodleian Library, but all appear to be of one edition, printed for Coles, Vere, and Wright. See Douce Collection, I. 76, Wood's E. 25,122, and Eawlinson, No. 182.
Being a pleasant neto €Tourt=*<mg.
To AN EXCELLENT NEW TUNE: OR TO BE BUNG TO THE TUNE OF
Bonny Nell.
As I went forth one Summer's day
To view the Meddowes fresh and gay,
A pleasant Bower I espide 8
Standing hard by a River side,
And in't a Maiden I heard cry
"Alas! there's none ere lov'd like I." 6
I couched close to heare her mone,
With many a sigh and heavie grone,
And wisht that I had been the wight 9
That might have bred her heart's delight;
But these were all the words that she
Did still repeate, "None loves like me." 12
Then round the Meddowes did she walke,
Catching each Flower by the stalke,
(Such as within the Meddowes grew, 15
As Dead-man-thumb and Harebel blew),
And, as she pluckt them, still cri'd she,
"Alas! there's none ere lov'd like me." 18
A Bed therein she made, to lie,
Of fine greene things that grew fast by,
Of Poplars and of Willow leaves, 21
Of Sicamore and flaggy sheaves,
And, as she pluckt them, still cri'd she,
"Alas! there's none ere lov'd like me." 24
The little Larke-foot shee'd not passe,
Nor yet the flowers of Three-leaved grasse,
With Milkmaids Hunny-suckles phrase,1 27
The Crow's-foot, nor the yellow Crayse,
And, as she pluckt them, still cride she,
"Alas! there's none ere lov'd like me." 80
The pretty Daisie, which doth show
Her love to Ph.cebus, bred her woe j
(Who joyes to see his chearefull face, 33
And mournes when he is not in place.)
"Alacke! alacke I alacke!" quoth she,
"There's none that ever loves like me." 36
The flowers of the sweetest scent
She bound them round with knotted Bent,
And, as she laid them still in bands, 39
She wept, she wail'd, and wrung her hands;
"Alas! alas! alas I" quoth she,
"There's none that ever lov'd like me." 42
"False man" (quoth she) "forgive thee heaven!
As I do wish my sinnes forgiven.
In blest Elizium I shall sleep 45
When thou with perjur'd soule [s] shalt weepe,
Who, when they lived, did like to thee!—
That lov'd their loves as thou dost me." 48
When shee had fil'd her apron full
Of such sweet flowers as she could cull, 50
" The Hunny-suckles (milkmaids' phrase),"
Woodbine being the other name.
The green leaves served her for her bed,
The flowers pillowes for her head;
Then down she lay, nere more did speak,
Alas! with love her heart did breake.
Finis.
Printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke.
[merged small][graphic][merged small]
And wept to see that such a maid
Should be by faithlesse love betraid;
But woe (I feare) will come to thee
That was not true in love as she.
The Birds did cease their harmony,
The harmlesse Lambes did seem to cry,
The Flowers they did hang their head,
The Flower of Maidens being dead,
Whose life by death is now set free,—
And none did love more deare then she.
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The bubling Brooks did seem to mone,
And Eccho from the vales did grone;
Dianse's Nimphs did ring her knell, 69
And to their Queene the same did tell,—
Who vowed, by her chastitie,
That none should take revenge but she. 72
When as I saw her corpes were cold,
I to her lover went, and told
What chance unto this Maid befell: 75
Who said, "I'm glad she sped so well I
Wee thinke that I so fond would be
To love no Maid but onely she?" 78
"I was not made for her alone;
I take delight to heare them mone;
Whon one is gone I will have more; 81
That man is rich that hath most store;
I bondage hate; I must live free;
And not be tied to such as she." 84
"0 Sir! remember" (then quoth I)
"The power of Heaven's all-seeing eye,
Though you deny—you know it not!
Call you to minde this maiden free,
The which was wrong'd by none but thee." 90
Quoth he, "I have a love more faire;
Besides, she is her father's heire;
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A bonny Lasse doth please my minde,
That unto me is wondrous kinde:
Her will I love, and none but she
Who welcome still shall be to me." 96
"False-minded man! that so would prove
Disloyall to thy dearest Love!
Who at her death for thee did pray, 99
And wisht thee many happy day:
I would my Love would but love me
Even halfe so well as she lov'd thee I" 102
"Faire Maidens will example take;
[Roxb. Coll. I. 86, 87.]
Cije desperate Damsell's Crafletog:
or,
iTIjc fatHjlrsse noung man.
[merged small][graphic]
In the gallant month of June,
When sweet roses are in prime,
And each bird, with a severall tune, 3
Harmoniously salutes the time,
then, to delight
my appetite, 6 I walkt into a meddow faire,
and, in a shade,
I spyed a maide,
Whose love had brought her to dispaire. 10
Shee her hands sate sadly wringing,
Making piteous exclamation
Upon a false young man for bringing
Her into this great vexation:
Quoth she, "False youth,
Is there no truth
In thee? of Faith hast thou no share?
No, thou hast none!
'tis to[o] well knowne By me, poore wretch, now in despaire."
"How oftentimes hast thou protested
That thou lovest me well indeed? And I performed what was requested,— Too much trust my woe doth breed.
I let thee have
what thou didst crave, Seduced by thy speeches faire;
and, having had
thy will, false lad, At last thou left'st me in despaire.
"My dearest Jewell thou hast taken,
Which should stand me in great stead And now thou hast me quite forsaken, And art, like false ^Eneas, fled
from Dido true.
What can insue This faithles deed, but to end my care?
like her, a knife
must end my life, For I, like her, am in despaire.
"Then, sith 'tis so, come, gentle Death,
I yeeld my selfe unto thy power,
Most willing to resigne my breath
I am, this instant time and howrc;
let thy keene dart
such force impart That I may die,—oh, doe not spare!
from earth I came,
and willing am Hence to returne, with grim despaire." When she these bitter words had spoken From her minde, so fraught with woe, Her heart was in her bosome broken, Teares aboundantly did flow
from her faire eyes;
then to the skies She did direct her hands with prayer,
and seem'd to move
the pow'rs above To scourge the cause of her despaire.
[merged small][merged small][graphic]
"You Gods I" (quoth she), "I invocate,
That, as your judgements still are just,
My wrongs I pray you vindicate! 0 may no Mayde that young man trust 1
henceforth may he
so wretched be
That none for him at all shall care;
but that he may,
for his foule play, Be brought, like me, to grim despaire 1" 70
Having made an end of praying,
Suddenly shee drew a knife, And I, that neere, unseene, was Btaying, 73
Ran in hast to save her life; but ere that I
to her could cry, 76 That her owne life she might forbeare,
shee, Dido-like,
her heart did strike:— Thus dyde the Damsell in despaire. 80
With such force her selfe she stabbed,
Blood ranne out abundantly;
My heart within my bosome throbbed 83 To behold this Tragedy:
Yet, though she bled,
she was scarce dead, 86
But gasping lay with her last ayre, and unto me
shee spake words three,
Which shewed the cause of her despaire. 90
"Sir," (quoth she) "weepe not to see me
Desperatly myselfe to slay, For [t]his fatall stroke doth free me 93
From disgrace another way: my honour's dead,
my credit's fledd, 96 Why, therefore, should I live in care V*
this being spoke,
her heart strings broke— Thus dyed the Damsell in despaire. 100
When Death had done his worst unto her,
I did wishly on her looke,
And by her favour I did know her, 103
Therefore I my journey tooke
Unto the Towne
where shee was knowne, 106
Young men will curse thee for her sake;
Theyle stop their eares unto our plaints, 105
And call us devils, seeming Saints:
Theyle say to day that we are kind,
To morrow in another minde." 108
Finis.
Printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke.
---------
The Desperate Damsell's Cragefcg.
This ballad, on the suicide of a desperate damsel, is probably unique. The initials of the author are those of Martin Parker. The ballad dates after 1615, as it was written to the tune of Dulcina, and the ballad of' Dulcina' was first entered at Stationers' Hall in that year. The tune will be found in Pop. Music, I. 143.
The woodcuts to the second part of this ballad (p. 268) stand side by side in the broadside, but they are too wide to be Bo placed in these pages.
In the gallant month of June,
When sweet roses are in prime,
And each bird, with a severall tune, 3
Harmoniously salutes the time,
then, to delight my appetite, 6
I walkt into a meddow faire,
and, in a shade, I spyed a maide,
Whose love had brought her to dispaire. 10
Shee her hands sate sadly wringing,
Making piteous exclamation
Upon a false young man for bringing
Her into this great vexation:
Quoth she, "False youth,
Is there no truth
In thee? of Faith hast thou no share?
No, thou hast none!
'tis to[o] well knowne
By me, poore wretch, now in despaire."
"How oftentimes hast thou protested
That thou lovest me well indeed?
And I performed what was requested,—
Too much trust my woe doth breed.
I let thee have
what thou didst crave, Seduced by thy speeches faire;
and, having had
thy will, false lad, At last thou left'st me in despaire.
"My dearest Jewell thou hast taken,
Which should stand me in great stead
And now thou hast me quite forsaken,
And art, like false ^Eneas, fled from Dido true.
What can insue
This faithles deed, but to end my care?
like her, a knife must end my life,
For I, like her, am in despaire.
"Then, sith 'tis so, come, gentle Death,
I yeeld my selfe unto thy power,
Most willing to resigne my breath
I am, this instant time and howrc;
let thy keene dart such force impart
That I may die,—oh, doe not spare!
from earth I came,
and willing am Hence to returne, with grim despaire."
When she these bitter words had spoken
From her minde, so fraught with woe,
Her heart was in her bosome broken,
Teares aboundantly did flow
from her faire eyes;
then to the skies She did direct her hands with prayer,
and seem'd to move the pow'rs above
To scourge the cause of her despaire.
"You Gods I" (quoth she), "I invocate,
That, as your judgements still are just,
My wrongs I pray you vindicate!
0 may no Mayde that young man trust 1
henceforth may he so wretched be
That none for him at all shall care; but that he may,
for his foule play,
Be brought, like me, to grim despaire 70
Having made an end of praying,
Suddenly shee drew a knife,
And I, that neere, unseene, was Btaying, 73
Ran in hast to save her life;
but ere that I to her could cry, 76
That her owne life she might forbeare,
shee, Dido-like, her heart did strike:—
Thus dyde the Damsell in despaire. 80
With such force her selfe she stabbed,
Blood ranne out abundantly;
My heart within my bosome throbbed 83
To behold this Tragedy:
Yet, though she bled, she was scarce dead, 86
But gasping lay with her last ayre, and unto me
shee spake words three,
Which shewed the cause of her despaire. 90
"Sir," (quoth she) "weepe not to see me
Desperatly myselfe to slay,
For [t]his fatall stroke doth free me 93
From disgrace another way: my honour's dead, my credit's fledd, 96
Why, therefore, should I live in care
this being spoke, her heart strings broke—
Thus dyed the Damsell in despaire. 100
When Death had done his worst unto her,
I did wishly on her looke,
And by her favour I did know her, 103
Therefore I my journey tooke
Unto the Towne where shee was knowne, 106
And to her friends I did declare
what dismall fate had hapt of late
Unto this Damsell in despaire. 110
With brinish teares her friends lamented
To heare of her timelesse end,
And every one in griefe consented, 113
And with me along did wend
Unto the place where lay that face, 116
That late, alive, was fresh and faire, now wanne and pale,
'cause life did fane— Her life she ended in despaire. 120
When this was told to her false Lover,
He was of his wits bestraught,
And wildly ran the Country over,— 123
Home hee'd by no meanes be brought.
Let this tale, then, warne all young men 126
Unconstancy still to forbeare;
For he betraide this harmelesse
Mayde Unto her death, through grim despaire. 130
Finis. M. P.
London. Printed for H[enry] G[osson].
Notes: Page 212.--THE constant Lover. Mr. Payne Collier kindly informs us that the initials P. L. to this ballad are an inversion of L. P. for Laurence Price. Page 233, line ult, for F. Cowles, read F. Coules. Page 260.-THE DECEASED MAIDEN LovER. The “excellent new tune” to this ballad, writes Dr. Rimbault, was probably that composed by Robert Johnson, and published in Playford's Ayres and Dialogues, fol. 1652. Johnson adopts only four of the stanzas, Nos. 1, 3, 7, and 9. Page 265.--
THE DESPERATE DAMSELL's TRAGEDY. The copy printed in Mr. Payne Collier's Black-Letter Ballads has the date of 1627. In other respects the texts agree. age 361, in note, “evorsion” misprinted for “evasion.” Page 388
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17th-Century Songs: As I Walked Forth (1652)
May 17, 2015Leave a comment
Playford's Dancing Master (1652)
Playford’s Dancing Master (1652)
The song, As I Walked Forth; or, The Deceased Maiden Lover, was composed by Robert Johnson – composer to the Royal Court – sometime between 1596 and 1611. It then appeared in printed form in Playford’s Ayres and Dialogues (1652-1659), and Treasury of Musick (1669), and in Thomas D’Urfey’s Wit and Mirth; or, Pills to Purge Melancholy (1721).
The tune was appropriated from another song, Bonny Nell, which is unfortunately now lost (many lyricists often did this; on many broadside ballads from the 17th century one reads in the subtitle, “to the tune of…” – many Robin Hood ballads, for instance, carry the subtitle “to the tune of Arthur-a-Bland”).
It’s a very haunting song to listen to, telling of a man’s grief for his deceased lover. The man is walking in the fields pondering the loss of his recent lover:
As I walked forth one summer’s day,
To view the meadows green and gay
A pleasant bower I espied
Standing fast by the river side,
And in’t a maiden I heard cry:
Alas! alas! there’s none e’er loved as I.
The grief-stricken lover then remembers how what brought her to her death; the maiden was walking in the meadow ‘catching each flower by the stork’ and it appears that some type of flower killed her:
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Then round the meadow did she walk,
Catching each flower by the stalk
Such flow’rs as in the meadow grew,
The Dead Man’s Thumb, an herb all blue;
And as she pull’d them still cried she:
Alas! alas! there’s none e’er loved as I.
I’ve been at a loss to explain this, but after a bit of digging I’ve found out a possible (and I appreciate this is entirely speculative) plant which may have been the cause of her death; the digitalis (foxglove), which may be the reason the author references “dead man’s thumb” (and is, as it happens, blue/purple in colour):
Dr. Prior, whose authority is great in the origin of popular names, says “It seems probably that the name was in the first place, foxes’ glew, or music, in reference to the favourite instrument of an earlier time, a ring of bells hung on an arched support, the tintinnabulum“…easily corrupted into foxglove. It happens, moreover, the name foxglove is a very ancient one and exists in a list of plants as old as the time of Edward III. The “folks” of our ancestors were the fairies and nothing is more likely than that the pretty coloured bells of the plant would be designated “folksgloves“, afterwards, “foxglove”…In south of Scotland it is called “bloody fingers” more northward, “deadman’s bells” whilst in Wales it is known as “fairy-folks-fingers” or “lambs-tongue-leaves”. – Lankester, Mrs. (1866). Boswell J.T., ed. English Botany, Or, Coloured Figures of British Plants (full text). VI campanulacae to verbanacea. Sowerby J, Smith C, Johnson J.E, Salter J.W. (III ed.). London: Edward Hardwicke. p. 128.
So I decided to research a little about the side-effects of this plant:
Contains cardiac glycosides called digitoxin, digitalin, digitonin, digitalosmin, gitoxin and gitalonin. During digestion these produce aglycones and a sugar. The aglycones directly affect the heart muscles. It produces a slowing of the heart which, if maintained, usually produces a massive heart attack as the heart struggles to supply sufficient oxygen to the brain. The acceleration of the heart ahead of this, sometimes leads to it being wrongly said to increase the heart rate.
On the other hand, it could also be wolfbane; Shakespeare referred to it as “venom” (it is also blue) and can cause diarrhoea, ventricular arrhythmias and asystole, paralysis of the heart or of the respiratory center.
Wolfsbane probably seems the more plausible candidate, in hindisight.
It appears that after having touched the plant she sadly dies:
The flowers of the sweetest scents
She bound about with knotty bents;
And as she bound them up in bands
She wept, she sigh’d, she wrung her hands;
Alas! alas! alas! cried she,
Alas! alas! there’s none e’er loved as I.
When she had fill’d her apron full
Of such green things as she could cull,
The green things served her for her bed,
The flow’rs were the pillows for her head;
Then down she laid her, ne’er more did speak;
Alas! alas! with love her heart did break.
Sometimes, I assume that people in the past, being faced with death on a more regular basis than we are today, didn’t really feel grief upon the death of a loved one in the same way that we do today. But it’s songs like this which enhance our understanding of people’s thoughts and feelings. People felt grief back then, intensely it seems, judging from this song. Anyhow, have a listen to it.
----------------------
Come all ye bold miners: ballads and songs of the coalfields - Page 102
https://books.google.com/books?id=DPoTAQAAIAAJ
Albert Lancaster Lloyd - 1978 - Snippet view - More editions
A Pitman's Love Song
Aw wish my lover she was a cherry,
Growing upon yon cherry tree,
And aw mysel a bonny blackbird;
How aw would peck that cherry cherree.
Aw wish my lover she was a red rose,
Growing upon yon garden wa', And aw----
I Wish I Wish (or: the pitman's love song)
(Trad)
I wish my love she was a cherry
A-growing on yon cherry tree
And I myself a bonnie blackbird
How I would peck that sweet cherry
I wish my love she was a red rose
A-growing on yon garden wall
And I myself a drop of dew
How on that red rose I would fall
I wish my love was in a little box
And I myself to carry the key
I'd go in to her whenever I'd a mind
And I'd bear my love good company
I wish my love she was a grey ewe
A-grazing by yonder riverside
And I myself a fine black ram
Oh on that ewe how I would ride
My love she's bonnie, my love she's canny
And she's well favoured for to see
And the more I think on her my heart is set upon her
And under her apron I fain would be
I wish my love she was a bee-skip
And I myself a bumble-bee
That I might be a lodger within her
For she's sweeter than the honey or the honeycomb tea
(as sung by A. L. Lloyd)
From a broadside, n.d. published by W. and T. Fordyce, Newcastle-upon-Tyne. a pitman's love song. From a collection of local songs mainly assembled by John Bell about 1830, now deposited in the University Library, Newcastle- upon-Tyne
[1959:] Most English songs tell a story. However, there are also songs that are merely lyrical expressions of a mood -usually arising from love denied or betrayed. Such songs are not held together by any narrative; instead they employ a number of images and symbols that are combined and recombined in song after song. Thus whole songs may be made up from "floating" verses familiar in other contexts, or attached to other melodies. The verses of I Wish, I Wish are most commonly found either in the song called Waly Waly or in Died For Love. Jazz enthusiasts may be interested in the apron-low, apron-high motif, which re-appears in the Blues called Careless Love. It was also used by John Clare in The Faithless Shepherd, a poem largely made up of traditional 'floaters'". (EFS ?)
See also Mudcat
[1966:] [Also, The Pitman's Love Song] A lost song re-found. It resides among the manuscript papers of eccentric old John Bell of Newcastle, a great pioneer collector of the folk songs of the English North-east, unjustly neglected. Many of his songs found their way, unacknowledged, into the celebrated 'Northumbrian Minstrelsy', but this one was not among them. The song is something of a masterpiece, but it seems to have dropped right out of tradition after Bell noted it, apparently in the opening years of the nineteenth century. In Bell's manuscript the piece is entitled A Pitman's Love Song. There's nothing in the text of the song that attaches to the miner's calling. Bell gives no tune for it, so I have fitted one. There's another verse to this piece, passionate and scatological. Rather to my own surprise I find myself too prudish to sing it, though I'm impressed by its intensity. (Notes A. L. Lloyd, 'First Person')
[1973:] These magic words, taken originally from John Bell's manuscript collection but changed even more than usual in the process of singing by me, have always lacked a tune. I myself set them to a version of Lord Bateman [...]. When A. L. Lloyd recorded them he used another tune. But at last I may have found the clue in some words which Sam Henry found in the notebooks of an Irish choirsinger, William Robb. It seems that some religious folk felt it sacrilegious to sing the sacred words of the psalms on any occasion but the church service, and so at choir practice they would substitute secular words; something similar happened in Scotland. Among the words in Mr. Robb's choirbook were something very like our first verse [see verse 1 above] (though with no specific psalm tune attached) plus paraphrases of verses from the Song of Solomon which, though they lack the erotic similes that also appealed to the compiler of 'Pills to Purge Melancholy', are in a somewhat similar vein. [...] If the whole song is meant to be sung to a psalm tune one's mind nevertheless boggles at the vision of a collier church choir bawling out our seventh verse
I wish my love was a ripe turd
And smoking down in yon dykeside
And I myself was a shitten flea
I'd suck her up before she dried
of which the normally unfastidious Lloyd confesses, in the note to his recording, "Rather to my own surprise I find myself too prudish to sing it, though I'm impressed by its intensity." (Dallas, Wars 170f)
'I wish I was a finger ring, Upon my Lulu's hand, And every time she wiped her ass, I'd see the Promised Land!'
------------------
The tea-table miscellany: or, A collection of choice songs, Scots & English
By Allan Ramsay
Susan's Complaint and Remedy.
I.
AS down in the meadows I chanced to pass,
Oh I there I beheld a young beautiful lass,
Her age, I am sure, it was scarcely sifteen,
And she on her head wore a garland of green:
Her lips were like rubies; and as for her eyes
They sparkled like diamonds, or stars in the skies,
And as for her voice it was charming and clear,
And she sung a song for the loss of her dear.
II.
Why does my love Willy prove false and unkind?
Ah I why does he change like the wavering wind,
From one that is 1oyal in ev'ry degree?
Ah! why dees he change to another from me?
Or does he take pleasure to torture me so?
Or does he delight in my fad overthrow?
Susannah will always prove true to her trust,
'Tis pity lov'd Willy shou'd prove so unjust.
III
In the meadows as we were a making of hay,
There did we pass the soft minutes away;
Then was I kise'd, and set down on his knee,
No man in the world was so loving as he.
And as he went forth to harrow and plow,
I milk'd him sweet sillabubs under my cow:
O then I was kiss'd as I fat on his knee!
No man in the world was so loving as he.
IV.
But now he has left me, and Fanny the fair
Employs all his wishes, his thoughts and his care:
He. kisses her lip as she sits on his knee,
And says all the sweet things he once said to me:
But if she believe him, the false-hearted swain
Will leave her, and then she with me may complain.
For nought is more certain, believe silly Sue,
Who once has been faithless can never be true.
V.
She finish'd her song, and 'rose up to be gone,
When over the meadow came jolly young John,
Who told her that she was the joy of his life,
And if she'd consent he wou'd make her his wife:
She cou'd not resuse him, so to church they went;
Young Willy's forgot, and young Susan's content.
Most men are like Willy, most women like Sue;
If men will be false, why fhou'd women be true?
-------------------------------------
Deep in Love.
The Virgin's Complaint; and The Young Man's Vindication.
"If she be not as kind as fair, but peevish and unhandy,
Leave her! she's only worth the care of some spruce jack-a-dandy.
I would not have thee such an ass, had'st thou ne'er so much leisure,
To sigh and whine for such a Lass, whose pride's above her pleasure."
—Sir George Etherege's Comical Revenge, ii. 1669.
O^TEN mentioned is the tune of Beep in Love, which is the same as Cupid's Courtesie: the name borrowed from a ballad beginning "Through the cool shady woods as I was ranging" (see Roxburghe Ballads, vol. iii. p. 530). We found the date of this " Cupids Courtesie" (not the ballad entitled "Cupid's Courtesie in the Wooing of the fair Sabina," which begins, "As on a day Sabina fell asleep,") entered in the Stationers' Registers on January 12th, 166J. The tune was then described simply as "a New Northern Tune : " Cupid's Courtesie was probably its first definite specification, unless Robin the Bevil were a still earlier title.
We give the two ballads at this place, in order to clear them away (p. 254) before meeting two Naval ditties appointed to be sung to the same tune. The sequel is entitled " The Young Man's Vindication against the Yirgin's Complaint." Another ballad to the same tune, possibly meant as Sequel, is preserved in the Pepysian Collection (V. 334), which gives the music. The title is, " The Young Man's Lamentation; or, Love and Loyalty rewarded with Cruelty." Licensed according to order. It begins, "I am so sick of Love."
The second part of this ballad (Pepys Coll., V. 335) is named "The Maid's End Answer to the Young Man's Lamentation; or, The most coy frowns turned to the most pleasing smiles." It begins, "As he was ready to faint." We need not expect to find in Sequels a close connection with their reputed antecedents, for they were seldom written by the original author. Then, as now, whenever any popular success was achieved, a number of unscrupulous imitators, rivals, and pirates, rushed forwards to secure a share of the plunder. The gang of pilferers, unable to originate, would steal from one another like so many sparrows.
A different ballad, beginning with a slightly varied first line, "I am so sick for Love," is entitled, "A Merry New Song of a Rich Widow's Wooing :"
I am so sick for Love, as like was never no man;
Which makes me cry, with a love-sick sigh,
Have at thy coat, Old Woman!
Have at thy coat, Old Woman! Have at thy coat, Old Woman!
Here and there, and everywhere, have at thy coat, Old Woman!
Printed at London for T. Langley. It is to a different tune, known earlier as
Stand thy ground, Old Harry! (see Popular Music, p. 366, for the tune.)
[Roxburghe Coll., III. 482; Jersey, II. 172; Pepys, III. 220; Douce, II. 235.]
%ty I&tnD Complaint
agamsit a $oung span'ss Sln&mimeisss.
Of Young Men's Falsehood she doth much complain,
Resolving never to love Man again;
Experience tells her Men love but for fashion:
That makes her rail against them in such passion.
To The Tune Of, Cupid''s Courtesy, etc. [See previous page.]
"T Am so deep in Love, I cannot hide it;
JL It breaks me of my rest, and of my quiet:
For when I see his face, it so inflames me,
That I must love him still, though the World blame me.
"O fye upon this Love! it will undoe me;
I'll never love Man again, should the Gods woo me:
For, if that once I can shake off this passion,
I'll ne'er love Man again, but only for fashion. 8
"There's no Belief in men, though they seem civil;
For when they sit like Saints, they think most evil;
Therefore be rul'd by me, Never trust no man!
But if you needs must love, pray love a Woman!
"I wish blind Cupid had been soundly sleeping
When like a crafty lad he came so creeping
To wound my tender heart, and pierce my marrow,
I felt his fatal Dart, to my great sorrow. 16
"Never poor Virgin was in such a taking,
I oft look'd in my Glass, pleasure forsaking;
My cheeks were pale and wan, my lips did tremble,
Because I lov'd a man that did dissemble.
"Oh! what a simple Girl I was, for certain!
For to love Lord or Earl I would not hearken;
Not one in twenty score but is deceitful,
Therefore I'll love no more: men are ungrateful. 24
"It is their constant trade to cog and flatter,
Or to delude a Maid, her for to banter;
But if they prate and lie, I'll not believe them:
Such Love I'll never try, although it grieve them.
"They'll profess and pretend much of affection,
Until they make you bend to Love's Subjection:
Of your hearts craftily they will bereave you,
Till a new Face they 'spy, then they will leave you. 32
"Their words they are but wind, like Winter-weather,
Unconstant and unkind, light as a feather:
I tell you, flat and plain, I'll not abide it,
To love a man again, once having try'd it.
"Blame me not, though I be something in passion,
For now I plainly see it is the fashion;
For such false-hearted men are grown so common,
That when I love again, I'll love a Woman. 40
"Why should a Woman dote on such a Bubble,
That's good for nothing, but to procure trouble?
Every day I will pray for to live single,
That my affection may with no man's mingle.
"Ladies, take my Advice, you have rare features,
Always be coy and nice to such false Creatures;
No man will constant prove, no, not my Brother,
Then if you need must love, Love one another!" 48
[No colophon or publisher's name in Roxburghe copy, which is a comparatively modern impression. We have followed a better one, in the Earl of Jersey's Osterley Park Collection (now the property of Earl Crawford), "printed for A. Melbourne], W. O[nley], and T. Thackeray, at the Angel in Duck-lane. At the back of it is a unique exemplar of " Cupid's Revenge," printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger. The Pepysian copy of our ballad was printed for some of the same company, viz. for J. Clarke, William Thackeray, and Thomas Passinger. Roxburghe cut, two lovers and Cupid, p. 273. Jersey broadside has the ringletted girl of our p. 40 n; the fat flying Cupid, p. 50; and the Lady of p. 155. Date, circa 1664 : before 1686.]
%* "Cupid's Revenge," mentioned above, begins thus, "Now, now, you blind boy, I you clearly deny, With your arts and your darts that you often let fly." To the tune of, Now, now the fight's done (see vol. iv. p. 243). We meet a different ballad of " Cupid's Revenge," on King Cophetua, in Legendary Group, "A king once reign'd." Tune, I often for my Joany strove (p. 148).
%* To the same tune as our "Kind Virgin's Complaint," viz. I am so deep in Love, was sung John Wade's " Serious Discourse between Two Lovers," beginning, "My pretty little Rogue, do but come hither!" Compare p. 249.
Also to the same tune is marked, "The Sweet Salutation on Primrose-Sill; or, I know you not," beginning, "In the pleasant month of May." (The alternative tune is, " Though Father angry be.") It has the prelude versicle:—
'I know you not!' What, doth the times so change?
I knew the time we have not bin so strange:
But this by Maids must never be forgot,
When men intice, to say—1 know you not!
Hence one (or both) of these tune-names gained a new substitute, being called "The Dancing of Primrose-Hill." See Wm. Thackeray's List of Ballads, No. 246, reprinted in the present Editor's Bagford Ballads, pp. Xl to Lxxvi, but not identified in time for p. Lxxviii. We come to other ballads with same tune in "The Pensive Maid " and " The Valiant Seaman's Happy Return," both in the Naval Group of our present Volume Sixth.
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[RoxburgheColl., III. 108; Pepys, III.4, 16; Douce, II. 263m.; Rawlinson,29.]
Clje goung ©ait'a WinUtation
againsst tfie 2Wrgin'0 Complaint.
She rail'd against young Men in passion great;
But he more mildly seems with her to treat.
Young men are not so false as she would make them,
Some Maids are full as bad, how e're you take them.
To The Tune or, The [kind] Virgin's Complaint, or Cupid's Courtesie. [p. 252.]
1 Weet Virgin, hath disdain mov'd you to passion?
Ne'er to love man again, but for the fashion?
Was your abuse so great, beyond all measure,
That you can quite forget to think of pleasure?
"Though one false-hearted man, not to be named,
Made you look pale and wan, must all be blamed?
As if scarce one were good in a whole City;
Your peevish angry mood I can but pity. 8
"Men are not half so bad as you would make them,
More Maidens may be had if you forsake them:
Therefore I tell you plain, be not disdainful;
If Cupid shoot again, you'l flnde it painful.
"Young men had need beware, lest they be taken
And drawn into a snare, and so forsaken:
Many maids prove untrue: take it for certain,
'Twill be too late to rue of a bad bargain. 16
[Aidens false-hearted are, I can report it:
Their craft they will not spare, when they are courted:
They'l bend unto your bowe, their wits are nimble,
It's very hard to know when they dissemble.
"They'l powder, prank, and paint, with each new fangle;
Sometimes sit like a Saint, for to intangle.
Their pretty wanton eyes are so alluring,
Life and death in them lies, killing and curing. 21
"Their beauty's like a charme, lovers intrancing;
No man receives more harm than by their glancing.
Like Syrens they will sing, their voices ravish;
They will make the Ecchoes ring, their tongues are lavish.
"By such alluring baits young men are taken,
And then it is their fates to be forsaken:
For these inticing Girles are so unconstant,
They're won and lost again all in an instant. 32
------------------
False-hearted Young Man The Languishing Swain
sung to the tune of The Languishing Swain
"Down by the side of a fair christial fountain"
'The False-hearted Young Man' was sung to the tune of The Languishing Swain. This we identified, beginning, "Down by the side of a fair christiul fountain" (sic), and reprinted it in vol. vi, p. 29, 1886. It was not unique, for at a later date we found another exemplar (Jersey, II, 89=Lindes., 321), which supplied the lost colophon, viz. 'Printed for J. Beacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street'; consequently the date was 1684, or soon after.
===============
Title
Lord Thomas of Winsbury's courtship, &c. : To which are added The false-hearted young man. County of Cavin. The wayward wife..
Published
[Glasgow] : Entered according to order 1795
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National Library of Scotland Printed
Search result: 2.
Title
Six excellent new songs : I. One bottle more. II. Old woman of eighty. III. The Sheffield prenticf [sic]. IV. The sailor and the shepherdess. V. The shepherd and the shepherdess. VI. The false hearted young man.
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[Glasgow?] : Entered according to order [1790?]
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Search result: 3.
Title
The constant maid, and the false-hearted young man; or, The maid trapan'd [a ballad].
Author
Constant maid.
Published
Lond., n.d
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Oxford University Printed
Search result: 4.
Title
Roger the miller's courtship : The false-hearted young man. Duncan Gray's wooing. And Sweet Poll of Plymouth.
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Published
Falkirk : pr. T. Johnston [180-?]
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Manchester University Printed
Search result: 5.
Title
The faithful marriner: or, A copy of verses writ by a seaman on board the Britania in the streights, and directed to fair Isabel, his loyal love, in the city of London. Tune of, The false-hearted young man: or, the Lauguishing [sic] swain. Copy of.
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Manchester University Printed
Search result: 6.
Title
The pleasant and delightful history of Gillian of Croydon.
Published
London
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Printed Online
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Search result: 7.
Title
The faithful marriner: or, A copy of verses writ by a seaman on board the Britania in the streights : and directed to fair Isabel, his loyal love, in the city of London. Tune of, The false-hearted young man: or, the Lauguishing [sic] swain.
Published
London : printed for J[osiah]. Blare, on London-bridge [1687?]
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Search result: 8.
Title
The pleasant and delightful history of Gillian of Croydon: containing, her birth and parentage: Her first Amour, with the sudden Death of her Sweet-Heart: Her leaving her Father's House in Disguise, and becoming Deputy to a Country Midwife; with a very odd and humoursome Adventure before a Justice of the Peace, for screening a Child under her Hoop-Petticoat: Her discovery of a Love-Intrigue between her Mistress's Daughter, and a perjur'd, false-hearted Young-Man, which she relates in the tragical History of William and Margaret: Her Account of a Country Wedding in Kent; with several merry Passages which attended it. Illustrated with suitable Cuts. The whole done much after the same method as those celebrated novels, by Mrs. Eliza Haywood
Published
London : printed for Arthur Bettesworth, at the Red-Lyon in Pater-Noster-Row, 1727.
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Search result: 9.
Title
The pleasant and delightful history of Gillian of Croydon : containing, her birth and parentage: Her first Amour, with the sudden Death of her Sweet-Heart: Her leaving her Father's House in Disguise, and becoming Deputy to a Country Midwife; with a very odd and humoursome Adventure before a Justice of the Peace, for screening a Child under her Hoop-Petticoat: Her discovery of a Love-Intrigue between her Mistress's Daughter, and a perjur'd, false-hearted Young-Man, which she relates in the tragical History of William and Margaret: Her Account of a Country Wedding in Kent; with several merry Passages which attended it. Illustrated with suitable cuts. The whole done much after the same method as those celebrated novels, by Mrs. Eliza Haywood
Published
London : printed and sold by Thomas Warner, at the Black-Boy, in Pater-Noster-Row, 1727.
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Search result: 10.
Title
Lord Thomas of Winsbury's courtship, &c. To which are added The false-hearted young man. County of Cavin. The wayward wife
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[Glasgow] : Entered according to order, 1795.
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Title
The Sussex tragedy : or, The fatal overthrow of a young man in Petworth, who broke his heart for the sake of a false-hearted lover. To the tune of, I love thee dearly, I love thee well. Licensed and entred, according to order
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London : printed for [J. Blare,] at the Looking-glass on London-bridge, [between 1682 and 1700]
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Title
The forlorn lover: or, An hew and cry : after his vvandring heart. My heart is gone a stray, said he, for which I do complain; and they shall well rewarded be that brings it back again. To the tune of, The false-hearted young man
Published
London : printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt spur-street, [ca. 1690]
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Search result: 13.
Title
The constant maid, and the false-hearted young man; or, the maid trapan'd : Shewing how a young man did allure a fair maid, giving her rich gifts, and promising to be loyal and constant to her, but after he had gain'd her to his lacivious embraces, he leaves her quite destitute of ever having any relief from him, though before he promised to marry her; but now she being with child, she contrives by feigning her self sick, how to deceive her parents, and preserve her honour from being stained with reproach, and when delivered, she doth intend to conveigh the bab secretly, as a fairing, to the father. Lastly, she begs all maids to take warning by her, and pitty her case, and never yeild to the embraces of young men. But when your friends consent you should be wed, then reap that pleasure in your marriage-bed. To a new tune, called, The willow green
Published
[London] : Printed for Iohn Hose, overagainst Staple-inn in Holbourn, [1660 - 1680]
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Title
The faithful marriner: or, A copy of verses writ by a seaman on board the Britania in the streights : and directed to fair Isabel, his loyal love, in the city of London. Tune of, The false-hearted young man: or, the Lauguishing [sic] swain
Published
London : printed for J[osiah]. Blare, on London-bridge, [1687?]
----------------------------------
[1629 Martin Parker]
Or,
The false Young-man, and the constant Maid, The qualities of them both displaid.
To AN EXCELLENT NEW TUNE.
A thousand times my love commend
to him that hath my heart in hold; I tooke him for my dearest friend;
his Love I more esteem'd than Gold. When that mine eyes did see his face,
and that mine eares had heard his voyce, His Love I freely did embrace,
my heart told me he was my choice.
O had he still continued true,
and in affection permanent, Had hee performed what was due,
then had I found true heart's content: But hee, regardlesse of his vow,
which he did make to me before, Hath thus in sorrow left me now,
my former follies to deplore.
Would I had never seene those eyes
that (like attractive Adamants), Did my poore heart with love surprize,
the power of Love so me enchants.
I have no power to leave his love,
though with sterne hate he me pursue,
To him I will most constant prove, though he be faithlesse and untrue.
I put my finger unto the bush,
thinking the sweetest Rose to find, I prickt my finger to the bone,
and yet I left the Rose behind: If Roses be such prickling flowers,
they must be gathered when tha're green; But she that loves an unkind Love,
alas! she rowes against the streame.
Oh! would he but conceive aright
the griefe that I for him sustaine, He could not chuse but change his spight
to faithfull love, and leave disdaine. I love to have him still in place,
his too long absence makes me mourne; Yet he disdaines to see my face,
and holds my company in scorne.
It grieves my heart full sore to thinke that he whom I so dearely love,
Should thus refuse with me to drinke, yet can my passion ne're remove!
Though he, I know, could wish my death,
so great is his inveterate hate, Yet I could sooner lose my breath
than see him wrong'd in name or state.
Ill hap had I to come in place
where first I saw his tempting looke; As soone as I beheld his face,
I Cupid's prisoner straight was tooke: And never since that fatall houre
I have enjoyed one minute's rest; The thought of him is of such power,
it never can forsake my brest.
Then was I strucke with Cupid's Dart;
then was my fancie captivated; Then did I vow that still my heart
should rest with him, though me he hated. Then did he make a shew of love,
which did much more my heart enflame; But now he doth perfidious prove,
and gives me cause his love to blame.
Nay more, he made a vow to me
that I should be his wedded wife, And he forsakes me now, I see,
which makes me weary of my life: I little thought what now I finde,
that Young-men could dissemble so; Sure he's the falsest of his kinde,
ill hap have I to prove him so!
Could any rrian be so hard-hearted
to leave a harmelesse Maid in griefe; From me all comfort cleane is parted,
unlesss his favour grant reliefe. Hee is the man that bred my paine;
he is the man whose love alone Must be the slave to cure my paine,
or else my life will soon be gone.
O faithlesse wretch! consider well
that Heaven abhorreth perjury; Great torments are prepar'd in Hell
for them that thus will sweare and lye. Oh! hast thou never made a show
of love, thou hadst excus'd thy blame; But thy false heart full well doth know
what oaths thy perjur'd tongue did frame. That obstacle that hinders me
is that, which I suspect full sore, His fruit grows on some other tree,
and he's seduced by some whore: Or else he hath some other Lasse,
perhaps, like me, a harmlesse Maid, Whom he may bring to such a passe
as I am brought, by Cupid's aide.
Oh Heavens! forbid that any one
that bears an honest loving mind Should thus have cause to grieve and moan
for such a knave, that shames his kind! But why should I, as passions move,
with bitter words upon his raile, Whom I am ever bound to love
untill my vitall spirits faile?
Sweet love forgive my lavish tongue,
if I offend in any sort: To recompence thee for that wrong
He always give thee good report: Although to me thou art unkind,
who never gave thee any cause, Yet I am still resolv'd, in mind,
never to break God Cupid's Lawes.
And if I never be thy wife
(which is the thing I justly climae), I vow to live a single life,
and never thinke of Lovers' game: But why speake I of life, when death
doth every minute claime his due? I cannot long retaine my breath,
having a Lover so untrue.
Let all true Lovers judge aright
in what a case, poore soule, am I; Come, Gentle Death! and worke thy spight,
for now I am prepar'd to dye: O Heaven! forgive thy Love is wrong
none unto me, a Maiden pure, Who for his sake must dye ere long,
for long my life cannot endure.
FINIS. M. P.
Printed at London for F. Coules.
in his Songs And Ballads Of The West (1891, pp. 184/5, notes p. xxxviii).