| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Restoration Verse. 1910. | | | | Phillada Flouts Me | | Anonymous |
| | | O WHAT 1 a plague is love! | |
| How shall I bear it? | |
| She will inconstant prove, | |
| I greatly fear it. | |
| She so torments my mind | 5 |
| That my strength faileth, | |
| And wavers with the wind | |
| As a ship saileth. | |
| Please her the best I may, | |
| She loves still to gainsay; | 10 |
| Alack and well-a-day! | |
| Phillada flouts me. | |
| |
| At the fair yesterday | |
| She did pass by me; | |
| She look’d another way | 15 |
| And would not spy me: | |
| I woo’d her for to dine, | |
| But could not get her; | |
| Will had her to the Vine— | |
| He might entreat her. | 20 |
| With Daniel she did dance, | |
| On me she look’d askance: | |
| O thrice unhappy chance! | |
| Phillada flouts me. | |
| |
| Fair maid, be not so coy, | 25 |
| Do not disdain me! | |
| I am my mother’s joy: | |
| Sweet, entertain me! | |
| She’ll give me, when she dies, | |
| All that is fitting: | 30 |
| Her poultry and her bees, | |
| And her geese sitting, | |
| A pair of mattrass beds, | |
| And a bag full of shreds; | |
| And yet, for all this guedes, | 35 |
| Phillada flouts me! | |
| |
| She hath a clout of mine | |
| Wrought with blue coventry, | |
| Which she keeps for a sign | |
| Of my fidelity: | 40 |
| But i’ faith, if she flinch | |
| She shall not wear it; | |
| To Tib, my t’other wench, | |
| I mean to bear it. | |
| And yet it grieves my heart | 45 |
| So soon from her to part: | |
| Death strike me with his dart! | |
| Phillada flouts me. | |
| |
| Thou shalt eat curds and cream | |
| All the year lasting, | 50 |
| And drink the crystal stream | |
| Pleasant in tasting; | |
| Whig and whey whilst thou lust, | |
| And ramble-berries, | |
| Pie-lid and pastry-crust, | 55 |
| Pears, plums, and cherries. | |
| Thy raiment shall be thin, | |
| Made of a weaver’s skin— | |
| Yet all’s not worth a pin! | |
| Phillada flouts me. | 60 |
| |
| In the last month of May | |
| I made her posies; | |
| I heard her often say | |
| That she loved roses. | |
| Cowslips and gillyflowers | 65 |
| And the white lily | |
| I brought to deck the bowers | |
| For my sweet Philly. | |
| But she did all disdain, | |
| And threw them back again | 70 |
| Therefore ’tis flat and plain | |
| Phillada flouts me. | |
| |
| Fair maiden, have a care, | |
| And in time take me; | |
| I can have those as fair | 75 |
| If you forsake me: | |
| For Doll the dairy-maid | |
| Laugh’d at me lately, | |
| And wanton Winifred | |
| Favours me greatly. | 80 |
| One throws milk on my clothes, | |
| T’other plays with my nose; | |
| What wanting signs are those? | |
| Phillada flouts me. | |
| |
| I cannot work nor sleep | 85 |
| At all in season: | |
| Love wounds my heart so deep | |
| Without all reason. | |
| I ’gin to pine away | |
| With grief and sorrow, | 90 |
| Like as a fat beast may, | |
| Penn’d in a meadow. | |
| I shall be dead, I fear, | |
| Within this thousand year: | |
| And all for that my dear | 95 |
| Phillada flouts me. | |
| | | Note 1. From Wit’s Restor’d, 1658. Another and inferior version is printed in Chappel’s Music of the Olden Time. [back] | | |
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