Then I will willingly comply
In loyal Love to live and dye,
whatever may betide.

I'le make it all my study still,
To be obedient to thy will

true blessings to restore:

Here in my armes I'll the[e] infold,

And prize the[e] more then all the Gold,
on the rich Indian Shore.

The moan you made heart did move,

my

Thou shalt not wander from thy Love,
whom you so much adore :

And therefore now no more repine,

Take Hand and Heart, I will be thine,

what canst thou wish for more?

FINIS.

84

90

96

Printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street, without

Newgate.

[In Black-letter. Date, 1685-1688.]

The Healing Balsom of a True Lover.

"Phillis is my only Joy,

Faithless as the Wind or Seas; Sometimes coming, sometimes coy,

Yet she never fails to please; If, with a frown, I am cast down, Phillis smiling, And beguiling,

Makes me happier than before.

THE

Tho', alas! too late I find,

Nothing can her Fancy fix;
Yet the Moment she is kind,

I forgive her all her Tricks;
Which, tho' I see, I can't get free;
She deceiving, I believing;
What need Lovers wish for more ?"
Sir Charles Sedley.

HE tune to which the following ballad is directed to be sung is "Amoret and Phillis." This title refers to "a song by Sir C. S.," in Sir George Etherege's comedy "Sir Fopling Flutter; or, The Man of Mode," Act v. sc. 2, 1676. It long continued a favourite. The earliest music to it was by Dr. Nicholas Staggins, Composer to Charles II., and afterwards Master of the Band to William III., and appears in Playford's Choice Ayres, ii. 5, 1679. Later, it was re-set by Dieupart,' and also by L. Ramondon.

We give the words direct from the comedy, but they appeared separately so early as 20th November, 1676, among New Songs; and the year after in Wit's Academy, p. 113 :

There can be no reasonable doubt as to the authorship, for it is expressed in the play "Song by Sir C. S.," and we find at beginning the "Prologue, By Sir Car Scroope, Baronet." wrote our Bagford ballad of "The Healing Balsom" it were a much harder task to determine. A copy is in Pepys Coll., iii. 298.

1 In Watts's Musical Miscellany, ii. 220, 1729, where the words are mistakenly assigned to Etherege, in defiance of a statement in the play. The music and words are also in the choice little undated volume, Richard Neale's A Pocket Companion for Gentlemen and Ladies, &c., p. 116; and in Vocal Music, iii. 236. J. Nichols, a trustworthy authority, gives the words unhesitatingly to Sir Car Scrope, and as "from the French of Madame de la Suze," in the first vol. of his Select Collection of Poems, with Notes, p. 16, 1780. Dr. John Aikin, and R. H. Evans (in his most impudent republication of Aikin's book, without leave, during his lifetime), misled by the initials, print the song as being Sir Charles Sedley's. It is not, however, among Sedley's Miscellaneous Works, 1702; nor is it equal to the best of his charming lyrics, many of which are perfect as Love-songs.

2 Al. lect. you strive.

[Bagford Collection, II. 165 reverso; Pepys, iii. 298.]

The healing Balsom of a true Lover.

[In the original are three cuts: those that are to the right and left of the one above are given on our p. 553. This centre-piece is a fair example of the fashions referred to on p. 548, and notes.]

PHillis, my wounded hearts delight,

doth triumph o're my soul,

When she is gone out of my sight
I by my self condoul,

No comfort then at all I find

when absent she's from me,

I chide the woods cause they'r unkind,
and rail at every tree.

I wander through the shady woods,
thinking my love to find,

I threaten then the sliding floods,
and quarrel with each Wind.

4

8

12

My passion she doth strang[e]ly mock,
laughs at what I endure,

And straight I leave my wandring flock,
in hopes to find a cure.

Quite through the plains I rudely walk,
like one bereft of wit,

And as unto my self I talk

I fall into a fit.

Strange sights, methinks, I then do see,
which trouble me full sore,

If once I could again get free

I ne'r would love her more,

But there's no hopes for me at all
my liberty to gain,

Nor e're to get out of this thrall,
poor love-sick helpless Swain.

[Part Secund.]

You happy shepherds that are free,

pray keep so if you can,

And take a pattern now by me,
a poor
distressed man.
Love is a base and cruel cheat,

and robbs men of their rest,
Compos'd of nothing but deceit
while free men they are blest.

Phillis was false, yet seemed kind,
and caught me in a snare,

Now she bewrays her faithless mind
I mourn beneath despair.

44

1 Parts of these two lines are scarcely decipherable in Bagford copy.

48

[Her Answer.]

Cease, Cease, my dear, do not complain,
blame not blind Cupids dart,
For I will cure1 thee of thy pain,
and ease thy love sick heart.
What love did cause thee to endure,
I grieve to think thereon,
Thou art the man, i'le thee assure,
That I do dote upon.

To thee I seemed strange, because
I'de have thee fond of me,

And teach thee tricks in Cupids laws
I thought were strange to thee.
But now I find thou dost acquaint
thyself with such like things,
I can't endure to hear complaint,
thou shalt tast of loves springs.

The Balsom of my lips i'le lay

2

upon thy bleeding wound,

Shall cause thy pain to pass away,

and [so] shal't soon be found.

68

wanting a salve like mine,

And in the world been strang[e]ly crost,

yet by the power divine,

76

I'me sent to heal thy bleeding brest,

and ease thee of thy sore,

For which I hope I shall be blest

and happy evermore.

80

Printed for F. Cole[s], T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clark,

W. Thackery, and T. Passenger.

[In Black-letter. Date, probably, about 1676-1680; before 1682.]