The Tragedy of Phillis, complaining of the disloyall love of Amintas. To a new court tune. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B06175 of text869 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing T2010B). 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. 7 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 2017 B06175 Wing T2010B Interim Tract Supplement Guide BR f 821.04 B49[16] 99887541 ocm99887541 182274 2240893927

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B06175) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 182274) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A3:3[18]) The Tragedy of Phillis, complaining of the disloyall love of Amintas. To a new court tune. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill (woodcuts). Printed by E[lizabeth]. P[urslow]. for Francis Coles in Old-Bayley., London, : [between 1641-1648] Two ballads, side by side. Includes "The complaint of the shepheard Harpalus. To a pleasant new tune." First ballad signed: M.A. Date of publication and printer's name suggested by Wing. Verse: "Amintas on a summers day ..." Imperfect: mutilated, affecting title of "The complaint of the shepheard Harpalus". Reproduction of original in the British Library. eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. B06175 869 (Wing T2010B). civilwar no The Tragedy of Phillis, complaining of the disloyall love of Amintas. To a new court tune. anon. 1648 1 1007 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2008-01 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-02 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-03 Sampled and proofread 2008-03 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-09 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Tragedy of Phillis , complaining of the disloyall love of AMINTAS . To a new Court tune . AMintas on a Summers day , to shun Apollo's beames , Was driving of his flocks away , to taste some cooling streames : And through a Forrest as he went , hard by a Rivers side , A voyce which from a Grove was sent invited him to bide . The voyce well seem'd for to bewray some male-contented mind , For oftimes did he he are it say , ten thousand times unkind : The remnant of that raging mone did all escape his eare , For every word brought forth a grone , and every grone teare . And neerer when he did repaire , both face and voyce he knew , He saw that Phillis was come there , her plaints for to renew : Thus leaving her unto her plaints , and sorrow-flaking grones , He heard her deadly discontents , thus all breake forth at once . Amintas , is my love to thee , of such a light account , That thou disdain'st to looke on me , or love as thou wert wont : Were those the oaths that thou didst make , the vowes thou didst conceive , When I for thy contentments sake , mine hearts delight did leave : How oft didst thou protest to me , the heavens should turne to nought , The Sun should first obscuted be , ere thou wouldst change thy thought : Then heaven dissolve without delay , Sun shew thy face no more , Amintas love is lost for aye , and woe is me therefore . Well might I , if I had beene wise , foreseene what now I find , But too much love did fill mine eyes , and made my judgement blind : But ah , alas ! th' effect doth prove , thy drifts are but deceit , For true and undissembled love , will never turne to hate . All thy behaviours were ( God knowes ) too smooth and too discreet , Like Sugar which impoysoned growes , suspect because it 's sweet : Thine oaths and vowes did promise more then well thou couldst performe , Much like a calme that comes before an unexpected storme . God knowes it would grieve me much for to be kil'd for thee . But oh ! too neere it doth me touch , that thou shouldst murder me : God knowes I care not for the paine can come for losse of breath , T is thy unkindnesse cruell Swaine , that grieves me to the death . Amintas tell me if thou may , if any fault of mine , Hath given thee cause thus to betray mine hearts delight and shine ? No , no , alas , it could not be , my love to thee was such , Unlesse that if I urged thee , in loving thee too much . But ah , alas ! What doe I gaine , by those my fond complaints ? My dolour doubles thy disdaine , my griefe thy joy augments : Although it yeeld no greater good , it oft deth ease my mind , For to reproach th' ingratitude of him who is unkind . With that her hand , cold , wan , and pale , upon her brest she layes , And seeing that her breath did faile , she sighes and then she sayes ; Amintas , and with that poore Maid , she sigh'd againe full sore , That after that she never said , nor sigh'd , nor breath'd no more . FINIS . M.A.
The complaint of the Shepheard Harpalus To a pleasant new tune .

POore Harpalus , opprest with love , sate by a Chrystall Brooke , Thinking his sorrowes to remove , ofttimes therein did looke : And hearing how on pibble stones , the murmuring River ran , As if it had bewaild his grons , unto it thus began : Faire streames ( quoth he ) that pitties me , and heares my matchlesse mone , If thou be going to the Sea , as I doe now suppone : Attend my plaints past all reliefe , which dolefully I breath Acquaint the Sea-nymphs with the griefe which still procures my death . Who sitting in the cliffy Rocks , may in their songs expresse , While as they combe their golden locks , poore Harpalus distresse : And so perhaps some Passenger , that passeth by the way , May stay and listen for to heare , them sing this dolefull Lay. Poore Harpalus a Shepheard Swaine , more rich in youth than store , Lov'd faire Philena , haplesse man , Philena , oh therefore ! Who still remorecelesse hearted Maid , tooke pleasure in his paine , And his good will , poore soule , repaid with undeserv'd disdaine . Nere Shepheard loved Shepheardesse more faithfully then he , Nere Shepheard yet beloved lesse of Shepheardesse could be : How oft did he with dying lookes , to her his woes impart . How oft his sighes did testifie the dolour of his heart . How oft from Valleys to the Hills , did he his griefe rehearse ? How oft re-ecchoed they his ills , aback againe ( alas ? ) How oft on Barkes of stately Pines , of Beech , of Holly-greene , Did he ingrave in mournfull lines , the griefe he did sustaine ? Yet all his plaints could have no place , to change Philena's mind , The more his sorrowes did increase , the more she prov'd unkind : The thought thereof with wearied care poore Harpalus did move , That overcome with high despaire , he lost both life and love . Finis .

London , Printed by E.P. for Francis Coles in the Old-Bayley .