Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A35435
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Cupids garland set round about with gilded roses containing many pleasant songs and sonnets newly written.
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1674
(1674)
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Wing C7602; ESTC R20355
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6,894
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26
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Cupids Garland SET Round about WITH Gilded Roses Containing many pleasant Songs and Sonnets Newly Written Omnia Amator Debuerat sertis implicuissa comat London Printed by E. Crowch for F. Colet T. Vere and J. Wright 1674. The Contents A Song of King Edward's wooing the fair Maid of London Her Answer A Royal Song of the Red Rose and the White The Life and Death of the renowned Gallant Thomas Stukley A Sonnet of a Chaste Lover A Pastoral Song A lameâ—table end of Shor's Wife some time Concubine to King Edward the 4th A Song of a Begger and a King A Lamentable Song of the fall of the Dutchess of Glocester A Shepherds Sorrow because he could not Wooe A Song of Lord Wigmore and the fair maid of Dunsmore in Warwick-shire The sad Complaint of fair Isabel for the loss of her Honour The Story of Ill-May-Day A Song and Verses made upon a Sigh Cupids Garland here is set with gilded Roses round And if the Reader likes of it the Garland then is Crown'd A Courtly new Song shewing how King Edward wooed the fair maid of LONDON To the Tune of Dulcina FAir Angel Pearl of Beauty thou that art my hearts sole treasure Thou my Subject art my duty yet I must obey thy pleasure When Love doth sway Kings must obey And to his Scepter yeilding be Swéet Maiden bright Grant my delight And come sweet Virgin unto me Gallant Lady let my Love so much favour once obtain That you would my suit approve pittying me when I complain Think on the Court What Masks and Sport And Pleasures new invented be All these are thine Be thou but mine And come sweet Virgin unto me Art thou not Fair Love contented with those offers I do make Your Love shall never be repented if my promise you dare take my Royal word It will afford If that thou wilt but loving be Thou shalt be séen Like Englands Quéen Then come sweet Virgin unto me Be not resolved a Maid to dye For where Beauty he doth spye chastity is ne're intended Some Shepheards daughter May chance hereafter Through all her life a Maid to be But Ladies bright Should love delight Then come sweet Virgin unto me You shall purchase great renown why should you then be so cruel And upon King Edward frown that estéems your love a Iewel Oh do but grant What I do want And to my gentle suit agrée Do thou obey That I may say Welcome sweet Virgin unto me The fair Maid of Londons Answer to King Edwards Wanton Love To the same Tune KIng Edward know it is in vain thus with fairest words to wooe me From dignities I will refrain lest courtly honour do undo me like to Jane Shore and many more Who many happy daies did sée but she did dye in misery Then let me still a Vi gin be Hope of honour shall not tempt me to yéeld to your desire With my estate I am content nor do I wish to rise yet higher My spotless fame I will maintain And unto heaven bear with me And so to the end I am your friend But still a Virgin I will be A Royal Song of the red Rose and the white united together by the happy Marriage of King Henry the Seventh and Ellzabeth Plantaginet Daughter to Edward the 4th from whom King James of Famous memory lineally descended To the Tune of The blazing Torch WHen as the Earth did blush with blood of Men in Battel slain Whilst York against Lancaster stood then Henry did obtain His Right at last and did beat down King Richard in the Field Who being kill'd did loose his Crown but never would he yeild Then Henry from the ancient House of Lancaster descended Did marry with the House of York and so the difference ended For York who did the White Rose give was with the Red Rose plighted And by this happy Marriage so these Roses were Vnited These Royal Roses buding forth that Henry soon consented For to advance his Daughters worth which England ne're repented That she should be great Scotlands quéen which Match the Lord befrinded So that King James of worthy same from that same Quéen descended Thus all the Wars at last did cease by this most Royal Pair This Land doth now enjoy swéet peace by this bright Lady fair And now still in remembrance that these Roses were conjoyned The Roses yet in Royal Armes are with the Crown combined The famous life and death of the renowned English Gallant Thomas Stukely who lived in the time of Queen Elizabeth and ended his dayes in a Battel of three Kings in Barbary To the Tune of Henries going to Bullain IN England in the West Where Phoebus takes his rest There lusty Stukely he was born By birth he was a Clothiers Son Deeds of wonder he hath done Which with lasting praise his name adorn Lusty Stukely he was nam'd And much honour gain'd For so reports the story of his life He married with a London Dame Daughter to an Alderman And had great store of treasure with his wife But he in riot soon Her portion did consume Which struck old Curtis so unto the heart Who was his wives own Father That he with age or rather With sorrow did his life depart When he was laid in earth Stukely began his mirth His golden Angels then began to fly He night by night in pleasure Did melt away his treasure And wished that his loving wife would dye While vice he maintain'd His wants at last constrained Him to sell the Pavements of his yard Which with blocks of Tin was lin'd Old Curtis left the same behind But he the same did ne're the more regard His wife hereat lamented And was much discontented Make much of me dear Husband she did cry I le make much more swéet-heart of the Than any other shall quoth he I le sell thy cloaths and so from England fly So first he went to Italy And when he came to Barbary Whereby his valour he did soon obtain The Standard Royal for to bear While in one Field there did appear Thrée Kings their right for to maintain The Sun did ne're behold A battel fought more bold And afterwards brave Stukely there was slain By those Ital ans of great worth Which Stukely to the field drew forth And thus unto himself he did complain Was I mad or did I rade Thus to séek a Forraign grave And at home abuse my loving wife Stukely on the ground now lies Like to Mars his Sacrifice And bléeding here must end my wretched life And with this word his breath was stopped soon by death His empty body lay upon the ground which buried once they did make a royal Tomb for Stukelies sake And still his noble valour is renown'd A Pastoral Song or discourse between a Gentleman and a Shepherd concerning Love To the Tune of The Ladies fall AS I did walk one day abroad I spy'd a Shepherds Swain Who often stoopt to gather Flowers and séem'd to take much
pain And in his hand a basket round compos'd of Willows small Wherein he put the flowers which were of vertues several But when I nearer to him came I asked him good Father What is the reason moveth you these Flowers for to gather But he then with a heavy look did thus to me reply These Flowers I do gather Sir to cure Loves malady Nay then quoth I you are deceiv'd if you do think good Swain By help and vertue of these flowers to cure Loves inward pain Therefore to get thy swéet hearts Love go back again and try For their is none but Doctor Jone can cure Loves malady Then by the Mass the Shepheard said my true Loves name is Jone I will to yonder hill repair and to her make my moan So going back the Shepheards Swain with his Swéet heart did lye Thus Doctor Jone did help his moan and cure Loves malady A new Song of a chaste Lover To the Tune of Away to Twiver VVHen I did Phillis naked spy I shut mine eyes and would not see Those beauties which did naked lye was ever a Lover like to me When she her Mantle did unfold I shut mine eyes and would not see Loves flower which then I might behold was ever Lover like to me While she bathed in a silver stream I shut mine eyes and would not see But lay still in a pleasant dream was ever Lover like to me And when like Diana she came forth I shut mine eyes and would not see The Golden fruit of precious worth was ever Lover like to me But when she cloathed had each part I opned then my eyes to see If that I could but win her heart for that was only lov'd of me A new Sonnet setting forth the miserable and wretched end of Shores Wife who was sometime Concubine to King Edward the Fourth To the Tune of I sigh and sob c. YOu that are in your blooming years Whose beauty to the world appears Come learn by me who am Shores wife To lead a chaste and honest life And to preserve your spotless fame Lest afterwards you do complain For when King Edward rul'd this Land I could his Royal Crown command But after he did chance to dye I was expos'd to misery And cruelty turn'd out of door All men did hate the name of Shore And for to publish my leud sin I did do Pennance to begin My shame and carryed by command A burning Tapor in my hand Thus when that I was once cast down On my hard fate each one did frown Thus all my joyes did fickle prove Which I did reap by Edwards love A Princes Paragon I was But now constrain'd to beg Alass I was reviled and called Whore Yet patiently their words I bore For my accusing Conscience cry'd That Vice had béen my sinful guide Then let young Maids wives beware And of their honour have a care Lest they come to a wretched and If like to me they do offend A Song of a Beggar and a King To the Tune of Love will find out the way A Prince once there reigned who did much delight who was poorly dight Let Cupid then be crowned with Roses so gay For his Bow so much renowned even Kings must obey It happened at his window this Beggar he espy'd And from thence to the Gate of his Pallace he hyed His purse then he casteth to this Beggar in gray And unto her he hasteth Love will make Kings obey And then he imbraced the Beggar so mean And on his Throne placed her like to a Quéen While the Nobles attended on their wedding day And thus all things ended Love will make Kings obey A lamentable Sonnet of the fall of the great Dutchess of Glocester Wife to Duke Humphrey shewing how she did Pennance through London streets bare-footed with a Wax Candle in her hand and how she was banished into the Isle of Man where she died To the Tune of Queen Dido COme hither now fair Ladies all and bring with you a tear fil'd eye That you may wéep to hear the fall of Elioner a Dutches high Whom good Duke Humphery made his bride And after by foul treason dy'd For him they murthered in his sléep and being dead they seiz'd his Lands So that the Dutchess did nothing kéep for all was in King Henries hands Thus when that fortune once doth frown The highest are thrown quickly down But she that bore a Noble mind to practice witchcraft did intend That the Dukes murtherers she might find and bring them to a shameful end By black inchanting Arts to spill Their blood the did Duke Humphrey kill But when her practice once was known and notice of her purpose given Then by her punishment 't was shown such actions do displease high Heaven For she was doomed through each stréet To go in Pennance in a shéet And to increase my grief and pain I judged was to leave that place Where I had lived before in fame and like an Exile in disgrace I to thée Isle of Man was sent To spend my dayes in Banishment Full nineteen Years I spent in grief and made mine eyes with tears to rain Yet could my tears yeeld no relief for all my sorrow was in vain Vnto the Isle I was assign'd Till death did ease my troubled mind For after I had here sustain'd all hardness that one might indure Heavens hearing how I complain'd some pitty for me did procure And so an end of grief to make My soul into the Heavens to take Though in my life I had offended yet when that death approached nigh Into Christs hands I then commended my soul for which he once did dye Thus Exile for my late offence did save my soul by penitence A Sonnet Wherein a Shepherd doth show His sorrow because he cannot wooe To the Tune of In sad and ashly weeds VVEep now mine eyes your fill for I my Oaten pipe will break Let fighs resound unto the hill because alass I dare not speak let Garlands now of Cypress bough My inward sorrow shew since fondly I for love must dye Because I cannot wooe Some can with ease profess and in swéet words their love declare Yet I alass cannot express My love to her that is so fair these flowry Plains a Saint contains To whom all praise is due yet justly she despiseth me Because I cannot wooe Sometime I did retire unto a spreading shady trée And think to cool my fire with gales that freshly breathing be the Birds do sing the woods do ring And all things pleasure shew yet fondly I for love must dye Because I cannot wooe Yet this of her I crave that when death closeth up my eyes She would come to my grave and not a Shepherds grief despise and on my Herse to write this Verse Here Coridon so true in love did die and here doth lie Because he could not wooe A song of the Lord Wigmore and the fai◠Maid of Dunsmore in Warwick-shire which may be a warning to