YOUNG Jemmy OR,
The Princely Shepherd.
Being a most pleasant and Delightful New Song.
In blest
Arcadia, where each Shepherd feeds
His numerous Flocks, and tunes on slender Reeds;
His song of Love, while the fair nymphs trip round,
The chief amongst 'um was young
Jemmy found:
For he with glances could enslave each heart,
But fond Ambition made him to depart
The Fields to Court, led on by such as sought
To blast his Vertues which much sorrow brought
To a pleasant New Play-house
Tune. Or, In Ianuary last, Or, The Gowlin.
YOung
Jemmy was a Lad,
of Royal birth and Breeding:
With every Beauty clad,
and every Swain exceeding.
A face and shape so wonderous fine,
so charming every part:
That every Lass upon the Green,
for
Jemmy had a heart.
In
Jemmy's powerfull Eyes
young Gods of Love are playing,
And on his face there lies
a thousand smiles betraying:
But O he dances with a grace,
none like him e're was seen:
No God that ever fancied was,
had so divine a meen.
To
Jemmy every Swain
did lowly deft his Bonnet:
And every Lass did strain,
to praise him in her Sonnet:
The pride of all the Youths he was,
the Glory of the Groves:
The pleasure of each tender Lass,
and theme of all their Loves.
BVt Oh unlucky fate,
ah Curse upon Ambition:
The busie Fops of State,
have ruin'd his condition:
For glittering hope he left his shade,
his glorious hours are gone:
By flattering Fools and Knaves betray'd,
poor
Jemmy is undone.
Then
Jemmy none more kind,
and courteous had been ever:
Thinking the like to find,
but he as yet did never:
For the false Swains that led him forth
to expectations high:
Design'd but to Eclipse his worth,
brave
Jemmy to out-vye.
But
Jemmy saw not this,
when in the Groves delighting,
Nor thought to tread amiss,
at such a fair inviting:
But
Jemmy was mistaken there,
for he wasted astray;
Whilst each kind Swain and Nymph so fair,
for
Jemmy sigh'd all day.
For
Jemmy's loss the streams
ran hoarse, as if with mourning;
The birds forgat their Leams
and Flowers so late adorning.
The pleasant Plains hung down their heads
as bearing part o'ch grief,
And wishing he had longer staid,
but
Jemmy'd no belief.
For
Jemmy's strutting veins,
with youthful blood were flowing,
Which made him raise his strains,
to his almost undoing.
Though each kind Villager did pray
he would again return:
And tread still in the pleasant Way,
but
Jemmy it did scorn.
For
jemmy in fierce Arms,
more then his Crook delighting:
Dispis'd the Wood-Nymphs charms,
that were so much inviting.
And dreams of digging Trenches deep,
storming each Fort and Town;
Ambition still disturb'd his sleep,
whilst
jemmy sought renown.
But
jemmy now may see,
that he was led to ruin,
By such as glad would be
of his utter undoing.
Yet that his Wandring he'd retrive,
the wish is of the Swains:
And in
Arcadia happy live,
where his great Father reigns.
FINIS.
Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-ball in West-smithfields