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<ETS>
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<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2009-01-05</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Emma Leeson Huber</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch Z080714.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="OX" ID="B06170">
<STC T="W">T1915</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99887904</BIBNO>
<VID>183562</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="text">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 17 -->
<HEAD>The Tormented Lovers.</HEAD>
<ARGUMENT>
<L>Maidens Lament their pre&s;ent State,</L>
<L>And count they meet with rigid Fate;</L>
<L>But e're they will their minds explain,</L>
<L>They'l dye of their Tormenting Pain.</L>
</ARGUMENT>
<OPENER>To a plea&s;ant Play-hou&s;e Tune, called, <HI>Oh Love! if e're thoul't ea&s;e a Heart.</HI></OPENER>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>O Love if e're thou'lt ea&s;e a Heart,</L>
<L>that owns thy power Divine,</L>
<L>That Bleeds with thy too cruel Dart;</L>
<L>Yea, Burns with never cea&s;ing &s;mart;</L>
<L>take pitty now on mine:</L>
<L>Beneath the &s;hades, I fainting lye;</L>
<L>Ten-Thou&s;and times I wi&s;h to dye;</L>
<L>Yet when I find cold Death draw nigh,</L>
<L>I grive to loo&s;e my plea&s;ing pain,</L>
<L>and call my Wi&s;hes back again.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus I &s;ate mu&s;ing all alone,</L>
<L>in the &s;hady myrtle Grove,</L>
<L>As to my &s;elf, I made a moan,</L>
<L>And every Eccho gave a Groan;</L>
<L>came by the Man I Lov'd.</L>
<L>Oh! How I &s;trove, my Griefs to hide,</L>
<L>I Panted, Sigh'd, and almo&s;t Dy'd,</L>
<L>Yet did each tatling Eccho chide;</L>
<L>for fear &s;ome Breath of moving Air,</L>
<L>&s;hould to his Ears my Sorrows bear.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="OXF" EXTENT="1 letter">ow you Powers, I dye to gain,</L>
<L>but one poor parting Ki&s;s;</L>
<L>Yet will endure this deadly pain,</L>
<L>E're I'le one Wi&s;h or Thought retain,</L>
<L>that Honour thinks ami&s;s.</L>
<L>Thus are poor maids unkindly us'd,</L>
<L>By Love and Nature, both abus'd,</L>
<L>All kinds of Comforts are refus'd:</L>
<L>for when we burn with &s;ecret Flame,</L>
<L>we hide our griefs, or dye with &s;hame.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Such Torments we poor Maids endure;</L>
<L>the like was never known,</L>
<L>In any former Age 'tis &s;ure,</L>
<L>Nor can we hope to find a cure</L>
<L>which moves us thus to moan:</L>
<L>In &s;ecret places, where we lye,</L>
<L>Each Minute ready for to dye;</L>
<L>And all in vain, for help we cry.</L>
<L>For comfortle&s;s we &s;till remain,</L>
<L>tortur'd with grief, and wreckt with pain.</L>
</LG>
<PB REF="1"><!-- PDF PAGE 17 -->
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>OVr Lives are comfortle&s;s to us,</L>
<L>except we them injoy;</L>
<L>Who cau&s;e us for to Langui&s;h thus:</L>
<L>Who'd think the want of one poor Bu&s;s,</L>
<L>could Maidens thus annoy;</L>
<L>That night and day we &s;hould Lament,</L>
<L>And wa&s;t away in di&s;content;</L>
<L>Our Follies &s;till we do repent:</L>
<L>but 'tis in vain, for 'tis too late,</L>
<L>for to lament our rigid fate.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>We mu&s;t the&s;e Torments &s;till endure,</L>
<L>except Men prove more kind;</L>
<L>Nought el&s;e to us can joy procure,</L>
<L>Or bring that Bli&s;s which will endure,</L>
<L>as comfort to the mind.</L>
<L>Langui&s;hing thoughts do us con&s;ume,</L>
<L>And in the end will prove our doom;</L>
<L>Yea, bring each Maiden to her Tomb;</L>
<L>who can her Love no ways obtain,</L>
<L>but dies, becau&s;e &s;he Loves in vain.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>What rigid fate is this we meet,</L>
<L>each hour of every day,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t Men their days are ble&s;t and &s;weet,</L>
<L>In e'ry part our Pul&s;es beat,</L>
<L>and we con&s;ume away.</L>
<L>Where's <HI>Cupids</HI> court of equity,</L>
<L>For Poets &s;ay, it &s;o &s;hould be;</L>
<L>But &s;uch a thing, I ne'r could &s;ee,</L>
<L>which forces me for to complain,</L>
<L>although I find 'tis all in vain.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Then let us bid this World farewell,</L>
<L>&s;ince we no joys can find.</L>
<L><HI>Elizium</HI> will this place excell;</L>
<L>For this to us is pre&s;ent Hell,</L>
<L>tormenting every mind;</L>
<L>Who feels the &s;mart of <HI>Cupids</HI> Bow,</L>
<L>Is weary of her Life, I know</L>
<L>She doth Torments undergo,</L>
<L>and therefore will be free to part,</L>
<L>from this &s;ad world, to ea&s;e her Heart.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet tho&s;e who can their Loves injoy,</L>
<L>thrice happy &s;ure are they,</L>
<L>Nothing on Earth can them annoy;</L>
<L>What cro&s;&s;es can their Bli&s;s de&s;troy,</L>
<L>who &s;urfeit every day.</L>
<L>Banquets of Ki&s;&s;es do they fa&s;t;</L>
<L>VVhile we for want con&s;ume and wa&s;t:</L>
<L>Vnto the Grave, then let us ha&s;t;</L>
<L>for Death mu&s;t be our chiefe&s;t friend,</L>
<L>and put our Sorrows to an end.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Tormented Heart, then brake and dye,</L>
<L>&s;ince I'me &s;o flighted here;</L>
<L>In flames of fire, I &s;corch and fry,</L>
<L>And &s;o &s;hall do perpetually,</L>
<L>till I injoy my dear;</L>
<L>VVhich if I never can obtain,</L>
<L>To hope to Live, as all in vain;</L>
<L>For I with Sorrow &s;hall be Slain;</L>
<L>yet freely will this VVord depart,</L>
<L>with a true Lovers Broken-Heart.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>London,</HI> Printed for <HI>Charles Pa&s;&s;enger,</HI> on <HI>London-Bridge.</HI></P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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