A new Love-Song, and a true Love-Song.
Jones, Thomas, of Hereford
Created as an example for Literature and Digital Diversity, Northeastern University, Spring 2021
A new Love-Song, and a true Love-Song.
Horshooe in Smithfield
Transcribed from a facsimile in Early English Books Online
Distinctive initial capital
Made of Young Man and Maiden fair,
Whose dwelling now is in Northamptonshire;
As they one evening late abroad was walking,
A young man lay unseen, and heard them talking:
To make their Complements to seem more sweeter,
Their words and actions he composed in Metre:
It was well they honest proved in verity,
Because Tom-tell-truth chanced to be so nigh.
To the Tune of, Colin and Amarilla
Loyal lovers listen well
To this story which ile tell,
Wherein I briefly will relate
what I heard rehearsed;
Between a young man and his mate
is here most neatly versed
I walked forth one evening tide
by a pleasant green mood side,
A pretty couple there I spied,
young Cupid by them hovered
I saw them walk, and heard them talk,
yet I was not discovered.
The young man from Northhampton came,
Yet He not declare his name,
Lest I should procure the blame
that doth attend a prater
And in the end I make my friend
become a perfect hater
She was a very gallant Lass,
Many maids she did surpass:
She was so fair I bow and swear,
it was pitty to deceive her;
And since that day I heard some say,
She was a Bone-lass-wraver.
Well met, fair Mistress, quoth the man,
Thus to courting he began;
If I may have what I do crave,
Ile not stand long disputing:
But yield to me, and thou shall see
I would rather be saluting.
Here is a fit convenient place,
Prethee Love let us embrace,
There is no man nigh that can us spy,
or hear what may be spoken;
Be kinde to me, and thou shall see,
Ile give thee many a Token.
The Damsel smiling in his face,
Said, Sir, I am feareful to embrace;
For young men are deceitful Ware,
and fears in them are reigning
Therefore be gone, let me alone,
I do not know your meaning
You say, convenient now it is,
There is no place set to do amiss
Therefore I say Ile not obey,
nor yield to such delusion;
Left at the last when pleasure has past,
it turns to my conclusion.
The Second Part, to the Same Tune.
Oh dear Love be you content,
for I am not lustful bent;
It is pure love that makes me move
such questions now unto you;
You see I stand with cap in hand,
on purpose for to woe you.
Canst thou love me, prethee speak.
Or else my tender heart will break.
For Cupid he hath wounded me,
and made a deep incision:
My Love-sick breast can take no rest,
you have me in derision.
Aye young man, what ado you keep,
You talk as though you wanted sleep;
Can any be in Love so free
in this our English Nation:
Love cannot make a heart to break
it is but dissimulation
Be civil Sir, and let me come.
My Mother wanteth me at home;
So stay I the night will her affright,
and breed a great distraction
Smirt her and I most certainly,
because of time detraction
Sweet-heart I have a fine Estate,
Sufficient to maintain a Mate;
Then be not coy my onely Joy
my dearest Love and Honey:
But condescend now in the end
to join in Matrimony.
I am the man upon my life
That will make thee a married Wife;
Ile give thee Rings and pretty things,
that's fit for recreation:
We will spend the night in rare delight,
to drive alway beration.
When she had heard what he did say
She had no power to say him nay;
By this you know, that Goods will sume
better then Complementing:
But this I am sure, Love will endure,
when Lands and Goods is wanting.
Quoth she, and if you will faithful prove,
And constant as the Turtle Dove;
I unto you will be as true,
if things may right be carried:
Then point a bay without delay,
wherein we may be married.
These Lovers then were both agreed,
And homewards they returned with speed;
With kisses sweet he did her greet,
she lovingly did take it:
They plighted troth between them both,
and vowed they would never break it.
I hearing of this pretty feast,
To make a Song I thought it best;
If any he shall angry be
with him that now hath penned it,
Let him I say, without delay
go take his pen and mend it.
London, Printed for Richard Burton, at the Horshooe in Smithfield.