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<DATE>2008-03-07</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>John Pas</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080213.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B06175">
<STC T="W">T2010B</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99887541</BIBNO>
<VID>182274</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD><PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 16 -->The Tragedy of <HI>Phillis,</HI> complaining of the di&s;loyall love of AMINTAS. To a new Court tune.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L><HI>AMintas</HI> on a Summers day,</L>
<L>to &s;hun <HI>Apollo's</HI> beames,</L>
<L>Was driving of his flocks away,</L>
<L>to ta&s;te &s;ome cooling &s;treames:</L>
<L>And through a Forre&s;t as he went,</L>
<L>hard by a Rivers &s;ide,</L>
<L>A voyce which from a Grove was &s;ent</L>
<L>invited him to bide.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The voyce well &s;eem'd for to bewray</L>
<L>&s;ome male-contented mind,</L>
<L>For oftimes did he he are it &s;ay,</L>
<L>ten thou&s;and times unkind:</L>
<L>The remnant of that raging mone</L>
<L>did all e&s;cape his eare,</L>
<L>For every word brought forth a grone,</L>
<L>and every grone teare.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And neerer when he did repaire,</L>
<L>both face and voyce he knew,</L>
<L>He &s;aw that <HI>Phillis</HI> was come there,</L>
<L>her plaints for to renew:</L>
<L>Thus leaving her unto her plaints,</L>
<L>and &s;orrow-flaking grones,</L>
<L>He heard her deadly di&s;contents,</L>
<L>thus all breake forth at once.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Amintas,</HI> is my love to thee,</L>
<L>of &s;uch a light account,</L>
<L>That thou disdain'&s;t to looke on me,</L>
<L>or love as thou wert wont:</L>
<L>Were tho&s;e the oaths that thou did&s;t make,</L>
<L>the vowes thou did&s;t conceive,</L>
<L>When I for thy contentments &s;ake,</L>
<L>mine hearts delight did leave:</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>How oft did&s;t thou prote&s;t to me,</L>
<L>the heavens &s;hould turne to nought,</L>
<L>The Sun &s;hould fir&s;t ob&s;cuted be,</L>
<L>ere thou would&s;t change thy thought:</L>
<L>Then heaven di&s;&s;olve without delay,</L>
<L>Sun &s;hew thy face no more,</L>
<L><HI>Amintas</HI> love is lo&s;t for aye,</L>
<L>and woe is me therefore.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Well might I, if I had beene wi&s;e,</L>
<L>fore&s;eene what now I find,</L>
<L>But too much love did fill mine eyes,</L>
<L>and made my judgement blind:</L>
<L>But ah, alas! th'effect doth prove,</L>
<L>thy drifts are but deceit,</L>
<L>For true and undi&s;&s;embled love,</L>
<L>will never turne to hate.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>All thy behaviours were (God knowes)</L>
<L>too &s;mooth and too di&s;creet,</L>
<L>Like Sugar which impoy&s;oned growes,</L>
<L>&s;u&s;pect becau&s;e it's &s;weet:</L>
<L>Thine oaths and vowes did promi&s;e more</L>
<L>then well thou could&s;t performe,</L>
<L>Much like a calme that comes before</L>
<L>an unexpected &s;torme.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>God knowes it would grieve me much</L>
<L>for to be kil'd for thee.</L>
<L>But oh! too neere it doth me touch,</L>
<L>that thou &s;hould&s;t murder me:</L>
<L>God knowes I care not for the paine</L>
<L>can come for lo&s;&s;e of breath,</L>
<L>Tis thy unkindne&s;&s;e cruell Swaine,</L>
<L>that grieves me to the death.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Amintas</HI> tell me if thou may,</L>
<L>if any fault of mine,</L>
<L>Hath given thee cau&s;e thus to betray</L>
<L>mine hearts delight and &s;hine?</L>
<L>No, no, alas, it could not be,</L>
<L>my love to thee was &s;uch,</L>
<L>Unle&s;&s;e that if I urged thee,</L>
<L>in loving thee too much.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But ah, alas! What doe I gaine,</L>
<L>by tho&s;e my fond complaints?</L>
<L>My dolour doubles thy di&s;daine,</L>
<L>my griefe thy joy augments:</L>
<L>Although it yeeld no greater good,</L>
<L>it oft deth ea&s;e my mind,</L>
<L>For to reproach th'ingratitude</L>
<L>of him who is unkind.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>With that her hand, cold, wan, and pale,</L>
<L>upon her bre&s;t &s;he layes,</L>
<L>And &s;eeing that her breath did faile,</L>
<L>&s;he &s;ighes and then &s;he &s;ayes;</L>
<L><HI>Amintas,</HI> and with that poore Maid,</L>
<L>&s;he &s;igh'd againe full &s;ore,</L>
<L>That after that &s;he never &s;aid,</L>
<L>nor &s;igh'd, nor breath'd no more.</L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
<TRAILER>M.A.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>The complaint of the Shepheard <HI>Harpalus</HI> To a plea&s;ant new tune.</HEAD>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>POore <HI>Harpalus,</HI> oppre&s;t with love,</L>
<L>&s;ate by a Chry&s;tall Brooke,</L>
<L>Thinking his &s;orrowes to remove,</L>
<L>ofttimes therein did looke:</L>
<L>And hearing how on pibble &s;tones,</L>
<L>the murmuring River ran,</L>
<L>As if it had bewaild his grons,</L>
<L>unto it thus began:</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Faire &s;treames (quoth he) that pitties me,</L>
<L>and heares my matchle&s;&s;e mone,</L>
<L>If thou be going to the Sea,</L>
<L>as I doe now &s;uppone:</L>
<L>Attend my plaints pa&s;t all reliefe,</L>
<L>which dolefully I breath</L>
<L>Acquaint the Sea-nymphs with the griefe</L>
<L>which &s;till procures my death.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Who &s;itting in the cliffy Rocks,</L>
<L>may in their &s;ongs expre&s;&s;e,</L>
<L>While as they combe their golden locks,</L>
<L>poore <HI>Harpalus</HI> di&s;tre&s;&s;e:</L>
<L>And &s;o perhaps &s;ome Pa&s;&s;enger,</L>
<L>that pa&s;&s;eth by the way,</L>
<L>May &s;tay and li&s;ten for to heare,</L>
<L>them &s;ing this dolefull Lay.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Poore <HI>Harpalus</HI> a Shepheard Swaine,</L>
<L>more rich in youth than &s;tore,</L>
<L>Lov'd faire <HI>Philena,</HI> haple&s;&s;e man,</L>
<L><HI>Philena,</HI> oh therefore!</L>
<L>Who &s;till remorecele&s;&s;e hearted Maid,</L>
<L>tooke plea&s;ure in his paine,</L>
<L>And his good will, poore &s;onle, repaid</L>
<L>with unde&s;erv'd disdaine.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Nere Shepheard loved Shephearde&s;&s;e</L>
<L>more faithfully then he,</L>
<L>Nere Shepheard yet beloved le&s;&s;e</L>
<L>of Shephearde&s;&s;e could be:</L>
<L>How oft did he with dying lookes,</L>
<L>to her his woes impart.</L>
<L>How oft his &s;ighes did te&s;tifie</L>
<L>the dolour of his heart.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>How oft from Valleys to the Hills,</L>
<L>did he his griefe rehear&s;e?</L>
<L>How oft re-ecchoed they his ills,</L>
<L>aback againe (alas?)</L>
<L>How oft on Barkes of &s;tately Pines,</L>
<L>of Beech, of Holly-greene,</L>
<L>Did he ingrave in mournfull lines,</L>
<L>the griefe he did &s;u&s;taine?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet all his plaints could have no place,</L>
<L>to change <HI>Philena's</HI> mind,</L>
<L>The more his &s;orrowes did increa&s;e,</L>
<L>the more &s;he prov'd unkind:</L>
<L>The thought thereof with wearied care</L>
<L>poore <HI>Harpalus</HI> did move,</L>
<L>That overcome with high de&s;paire,</L>
<L>he lo&s;t both life and love.</L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>Finis.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>London, Printed by <HI>E.P.</HI> for <HI>Francis Coles</HI> in the Old-Bayley.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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