The young-mans A.B.C. Or, Two dozen of verses which a young-man sent his love, who proved unkind. The tune is, The young-mans A.B.C. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B06773 of text R215896 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing Y110). 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 2018 B06773 Wing Y110 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.7[432] 99884544 ocm99884544 183145 2240902184

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B06773) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183145) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A5:1[229]) The young-mans A.B.C. Or, Two dozen of verses which a young-man sent his love, who proved unkind. The tune is, The young-mans A.B.C. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. Printed by and for A. Milbourn, and sold by the booksellers of Pye-corner and London-Bridge, [London] : [1693?] Verse: "Accept, dear love, these ..." Publication date suggested by Wing. Reproduction of original in the British Library. eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. eebo The young-mans A.B.C. Or, Two dozen of verses which a young-man sent his love, who proved unkind. The tune is, The young-mans A.B.C. anon 1693 2 972 9 0 0 0 0 0 92.59 D The rate of 92.59 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the D category of texts with between 35 and 100 defects per 10,000 words. 2008-02 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-07 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-09 Sampled and proofread 2008-09 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Young-Mans A. B. C. Or , Two Dozen of Verses which a Young-Man sent his Love , who proved unkind . The Tune is , The Young-mans A. B. C.

ACcept , dear love , these shadows of my grief , And let thy pitty yield me some relief ! A Captive to thy will I must remain ; For thou art only she must ease my pain . BE kind to me as I am kind to thee ; ●last not thy fame , with cruelty to me : but let thy inward parts thy features grace , beauty in heart ado●ns the outward face . COnsider how my service hath been bent Continually to gain thy sweet content : Canst thou , my Dear be so obdure to me ? Cross unto him that is so true to thee . DEfer no time to understand my grief , but with some speed come ease me with relief : Thy beauty rare hath struck my heart so deep , That all my daies I mean to wail and weep . EXcept thou d●st some fauour to me yield , I shall be sla●n with love in Venu● field : I am so discontent in mind and heart , That neither means nor time can cure my smart . FOrget thou not the woe wherein I dwell , My torments do all all other griefs excell ; Consider well my woful sable nights , and days I spend away without delights . GRant me thy love to mitigate my pain , The like thou shalt receive from me again . So love will we as doth the turtle-dove , ●●ose firm affection ever constant prove . HAve you respect on this the grief I take , Which out of sleep doth sometimes me awake ; In Dreams I see that which I most desire ; But waking sets my senses all on fire . IN doleful sort these words I now relate , which makes me think my self unfortunate ; To set my heart where I had nought but scorn , which makes me rue the time that I was born KIll me not in this desperation deep , To think how I neither eat , nor drink , nor sleep ; To think of that which I cannot obtain , The which hath near my heart with sorrow slain . LEt tender pitty move thy gentle heart , And so from thee my love shall never start , To gain thy love i 'll venture life and limb , And for thy sake the Ocean I will swim . MY life I loath because my woes increase , Therefore my to●ments cease and me release : then be not harsh whereas thou wouldst be kind , but for my love let me no hatred find . NEither deny to grant me this request , Nor seek thou not to work me more unrest , For if you do the wo●st share full to thine . the worse can come ends but one life of mine . OH that thou wouldst but now conceive aright , then would my darkness soon be turn'd to light : My greatest sorrows I should then destroy And all my grief and care exchange to joy . PIerce then no deeper to my bleeding heart , The which is ready now for to depart : He still that loves and is not lov'd again , Had better die than still to live in pain QUench thou the flames of this my burning breast , which for thy sake no time nor tide can rest : My love to thee hath evermore been true , Therefore the same see that I have from you . REgard my grief how still it more exceeds , My life is like the Herb that 's spoil'd with weeds : Among the finest wheat the tares do grow , And thou my love hath wrought my overthrow . SWeet love now take on me thy friend , some care , Regard my grief that still lives in dispair Of thy true love , which is more dear than gold ; My griefs are more than numbers can be told . TOo long I 've liv'd and yet too late repent , For why the glory of my life is spent ; In loving her that never did love me , O then what day of pleasure can I see ? WOuld I had never liv'd thy face to have seen , O then full happy surely had I been , For never any one under the Sun , But thou alone , could me this wrong done . X Thousand times more cruel is thy mind , Then Heathens , Jews , or Turks are in their kind Or any one that on the earth doth go , And woe is me , for I have found it so . YEt if thy mind be so perversly bent , That nothing can procure my hearts content , Know this from me , that I have learn'd of late , No more to dote on her that doth me hate . ZEnobia to Tamberlain ne'er was More dear than thou to me , but now alas ! I and my toyl , my sighs and sobs in vain , Why should I love , and not be lov'd again ? _& Now to set a period to my woe , If thou wilt have me , prithee tell me so : if otherwise thou mean'st , thy mind it send , Resolve me off ●●on , and there 's an end .

Printed by and for A. Milbourn , and sold by the Booksellers of Pye-corner and London-Bridge .