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REIGN OF CHARLES II. 527 |
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The popularity of the song was very great, and may be traced in an uninterrupted stream from that time to the present. The words were reprinted in Merry Drollery Complete, Part II., 1670, under the title of "Phillis, her Lamentation;" and in the same, a parody on it, called " Women's Delight." Another parody, " My lodging is on the cold boards," is in Howard's play, All Misiaken, 1672. Then the original in The New Academy of Compliments, 1694, 171J5, &c.; in Vocal Music, or the Songster's Companion, 8vo., 1775 ; in Johnson's Lottery Song Book, n.d. ; and fifty others. It was lengthened into a ballad, and became equally popular in that form. A copy is in the Roxburghe Collection, ii. 423, "printed by and for W. 0[nley] for A. Melbourne], and sold by C. Bates, at the Sun and Bible in Pye Corner." Onley and Milbourne were ballad-printers in the reign of Charles II. Bates I believe to be somewhat later. It is as fellows:—
" The slighted Maid; or The pining Lover.
With sighs and moans she doth intreat her dear, Whilst he seems to be deaf and will not hear ; At length his frozen heart begins to melt, Being moved with the passion she had felt.
To the tune of I prithee, Love, turn [to] me," &c. "Licens'd and enter'd according to order." |
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Was ever maiden so scorned
By one that she loved so dear ? Long time have I sighed and mourned,
And still my love will not hear: 0 turn to me, my own clear heart,
And I prithee, love, turn to me, For thou art the lad I long for,
And, alas 1 what remedy ?
My lodging is on the cold ground,
And very hard is my fare; But that which troubles me most, is
The nnkindness of my dear : 0 turn to me, my own dear heart,
And I prithee, love, turn to me, For thou art the lad I long for,
And, alas! what remedy ?
0 stop not thine ear to the waitings
Of me, a poor harmless maid ; You know we are subject to failings,—
Blind Cupid hath me betrayed : And now I must cry, 0 turn, love,
And I prithee, love, turn to me, For thou art the man that alone art
The cause of my misery. |
How canst thou be so hard-hearted,
And cruel to me alone; If ever we should be parted,
Then all my delight is gone : But ever I cry, 0 tnrn, love,
And I prithee, love, turn to me, For thou art the man that alone art
The cause of my misery.
I'll make thee pretty sweet posies,
And constant I ever will prove ; I'll strew thy chamber with roses,
And all to delight my love : Then turn to me, my own dear heart,
And I prithee, love, turn to me, For thou art the man that alone canst
Procure my liberty.
I'll do my endeavour to please thee
By making thy bed full soft; Of all thy sorrows I'll ease thee
By kissing thy lips full oft: Then turn to me, my own dear heart,
And I prithee, love, turn to me, For thou art the man that alone canst
Procure my liberty. |
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