The mistaken lover; or, The supposed ungrateful creature, appears a true pattern of loyalty. Alas I in vain he did complain, and counted her his foe; concluding she would cruel be, but it was nothing so. To an excellent new tune, sung at court. This may be printed, R.P. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B04368 of text R227306 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing M2257). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 4 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B04368 Wing M2257 Interim Tract Supplement Guide EBB65H[29] 99887236 ocm99887236 181946 2264218573

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B04368) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 181946) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A2:4[29]) The mistaken lover; or, The supposed ungrateful creature, appears a true pattern of loyalty. Alas I in vain he did complain, and counted her his foe; concluding she would cruel be, but it was nothing so. To an excellent new tune, sung at court. This may be printed, R.P. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for C[harles]. Dennisson, at the Stationers-Arms with in Aldgate., [London] : [between 1685-1688] Verse: "Oh so ungrateful a creature ..." Date, place of publication and publisher's name from Wing. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University, Houghton Library. eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. eebo The mistaken lover; or, The supposed ungrateful creature, appears a true pattern of loyalty. Alas I in vain he did complain, and counted her his foe; anon 1688 1 507 1 0 0 0 0 0 19.72 C The rate of 19.72 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2008-04 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-08 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-10 Sampled and proofread 2008-10 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Mistaken LOVER ; OR , The supposed Ungrateful Creature , appears a True Pattern of LOYALTY . Alas I in vain he did Complain , and counted her his Foe ; Concluding she would Cruel be , but it was nothing so . To an Excellent New Tune , Sung at Court.

This may be Printed , R. P.

OH so Ungrateful a Creature , ne'r could I thought you to be , 〈◊〉 to abuse my good Nature , laugh at my Simplicity : You above all , had least reason , first to abuse my poor heart , But if another had done it , you ought to have taken my part , Curse of your cunning proceeding , curse of your private Amour , While my poor heart lies a bleeding , may you be double curst o're : Was you but kind as you 're cruel , then you may talk of a bliss , But you preserve me for Fuel , O what a Tyrant is this !

You that my Torment invented , proving the cause of my grief , May you in Dreams be tormented , never obtaining Relief : Languishing like one forsaken , drowned in sorrowful tears , Evermore when you awaken , haunted with troops of new fears . Tho' in disdain you forsake me , seeing my joys are increas'd , 'T is not your Frowns that shall make me ever repine in the least 'T is not a true Lovers duty , such a hard heart to adore , I 'le never dote on your Beauty , since there is many in store . When he had made this Oration , then the young Damsel drew near , Not in a furious Passion , but like a Lover most dear : Why dost thou count me Disloyal , this makes my very heart ake , Might it be put to the tryal , Love , I would dye for thy sake . How could you Curse me , that never proved once false to my Love , Making my constant endeavour , every thing to remove , Which might thy Happiness hinder ; this is the truth of my heart , If I have been an Offender , then let me suffer the smart . Love , I cannot be so Fickle , she in soft Language replys , While many tears they did trickle , down from her beautiful eyes : I that have never offended , you judge me guilty to stand , O that my sorrows were ended , by the most fatalest hand . Hearing her sorrowful Ditty , and that her Love it was pure , Then he was moved with pitty , and could no longer endure . Then in the purest perfection , sorrows was turned to Bliss , Sealing her perfect protection , with many a tender sweet kiss . FINIS .

Printed for C. Dennisson , at the Stationers-Arms with in Aldgate .