Cælia's[63] Complaint.
POOR Cælia once was very fair,
A quick bewitching eye she had;
Most neatly look'd her braided hair,
Her dainty cheek would make you mad:
Upon her lips did all the Graces play,
And on her breasts ten thousand Cupids lay.
Then many a doting lover came,
From seventeen till twenty-one;
Each told her of his mighty flame,
But she foresooth affected none:
One was not handsome, 'tother was not fine,
This of tobacco smelt and that of wine.
But 'tother day it was my fate
To walk along that way alone;
I saw no coach before her gate,
But at her door I heard her moan:
She dropt a tear, and sighing seem'd to say
"Young ladies, marry, marry while you may!"
From William Corkine's Second book of Airs, 1612.
TWO lovers sat lamenting
Hard by a crystal brook,
Each other's heart tormenting,
Exchanging look for look,
With sighs and tears bewraying
Their silent thoughts delaying:
At last coth[64] one,
"Shall we alone
Sit here our thoughts bewraying?
Fie, fie, O fie,
O fie it may not be:
Set looking by,
Let speaking set us free."
Then thus their silence breaking,
Their thoughts too long estranged
They do bewray by speaking,
And words with words exchanged:
Then one of them replied,
"Great pity we had died
Thus all alone
In silent moan
And not our thoughts descried.
Fie, fie, O fie,
O fie that had been ill
That inwardly
Silence the heart should kill."
From looks and words to kisses
They made their next proceeding,
And as their only blisses
They therein were exceeding.
O what a joy is this
To look, to talk, to kiss!
But thus begun,
Is now all done?
Ah, all then nothing is!
Fie, fie, O fie,
O fie it is a hell
And better die
Than kiss and not end well.