A New, Rare, and Exellent sonnet of A Brave and lusty youth full Groome, that Was in Love and could not tell with Whom.
To the Tune of, Bodkius Galiard.
YOu gentile Nimphs that on the Meddowes play,
and oft relate the Loves of Shepeards young,
Come sit you down if that you please to stay,
now may you heare an uncouth passion Song:
A Lad there is an I am that poor groome.
That's fall'n in love, and cannot tell with whom.
Ob doe not smile at sorrow as a iest:
with others cares good natures moved be,
And I should wéepe if you had my unrest,
then a [...] my griefe: how can you merry be?
Ah, whe [...]e is tender pitty now become;
I am in love, and cannot tell with whom.
I that have oft the rarest featur [...] view'd
and beauty in her best perfection séen,
I that have laught at them that Love pursu'd,
and ever frée from such perfection béen,
Lo now at last so cruel is my doome,
I am in love, and not tell with whom.
My heart is full nigh bursting with desire,
yet cannot tell from whence these longings flow,
My bre [...] doth burne, but she that lights the fire,
I never saw, nor can I come to know,
So great a blisse my fortune kéepes me from,
That though I dearly love, I know not whom
Ere I bad twice f [...]ure Springs renued séen,
the force of beauty I began to prove,
And ere I nine [...]eares old had fully b [...]e,
it taught me how to frame a sound of love,
And little thought I this day should have come,
Before that I to love had found out whom.
For on my Chin the Massy downe you sée,
and in my veines well heated blood doth glow,
Of Summers I have séene twice thrée times three,
and fast my you [...]h full time a way doth goe:
That much I fea [...]e, I aged shall become
And still complain I love, I know not whom.
Oh why had I a heart besto'd on me,
to cherish dea [...]e affectians so inclin'd
Since I am so unhappy born to be.
no obiect for so true love to find,
When I am dead it will be mist fo some,
Yet now I live, I love, I know not whom.
I to a thousand beauteous Nimphs are knowne,
a hundred Ladies favours do I sware,
I with as many halfe in love am growne,
yet none of them I find can be my Deare,
Me thinks I have a Mistresse yet to come,
Which makes me sing, I love I know not whom.
The second Part,
To the same Tune.
THere lives no swaine doth stronger passion prove
for her, whom most be covets to possesse,
Then doth my heart, that being full of love,
knowes not to whom it may the same professe,
For he that is despis'd hath sorow some,
but he hath more, that loves and knowes not whom.
Knew I my love as many others doe,
to some one obiect might my thoughts be bent,
So they divided, wandring should not goe,
untill the soules united force be spent,
As he that séekes, and never findes a home,
Such is my rest, that loves and know not whom.
Those whom the frownes of jealous frinds divine,
may live to méet and descant of their woe,
And he hath gain'd a Lady for his Brid,
that durst not woe his Maid a while agoe,
But oh what ends unto my hopes can come,
That am in love, and cannot tel with whom.
Poore Collin grieues that he was late disdain'd,
and Clores doth for Willies absence pine,
Sad Thirsis wéepes for his sicke Phebe pain'd,
but all their sorrowes cannot equall mine,
A greater care on me, alas is come,
I am in love, and connot tell with whom.
Narcissus like did I affect my shade.
sume shadow yet I had to dote upon
Or did I love some Image of the dead,
whose substance had not breathed long agone,
I might despare, and so an end would come.
But oh I love, and cannot tell with whom.
Once in a dreame me thought my Love I view'd
but never waking could her face behold,
And doubtlesse that resemblance was but shew'd,
that more my tyred hart tormented it should,
For since that time more griev'd I am become,
And more in love, and cannot tell with, whom.
When on my bed at night to rest I lie,
my watchfull eyes with teares bedew my thee akes
And then, [...]h would once were day I cry,
yet when it comes I am as farre to séeke,
For who can tell though all the earth be c [...]me,
Or when, or where to find he Knowes not whom.
Or if she be amongst the beauteous traines
of all the Nimphes that bunt the severall Hils,
Or if you know her Ladies of the plaines,
or you that have your Bowers on the Hils,
Tell if you can who will my love be come,
Or I shall die, and never know of whom.
London Printed fo [...] F. C. J. W. T. V. W. G.