The perjur'd swain, or, The damsels bloody tragedy you loyal lovers now that hear this damsels destiny, sure can't forbear to shed a tear at this sad tragedy : the tune is, Sefautian's farewel / this may be printed, R.P. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B29229 of text R219073 in the English Short Title Catalog. 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. 4KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 3 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B43634 767838803 ocn 767838803 Wing P1539

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 Early English books online text creation partnership. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B43634) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 212288) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English Books, 1641-1700 ; 3012:4) The perjur'd swain, or, The damsels bloody tragedy you loyal lovers now that hear this damsels destiny, sure can't forbear to shed a tear at this sad tragedy : the tune is, Sefautian's farewel / this may be printed, R.P. R. P. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. Printed for J. Blare, at the sign of the Looking-Glass on London-Bridge, [London] : [between 1685 and 1688] Place and date range of publication suggested by Wing (2nd ed.). First line: As I rang'd for my recreation. Text in three columns with woodcuts above first two. Imperfect: stained. Reproduction of original in: National Library of Scotland.

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 eng Ballads -- England -- 17th century. Broadsides -- England -- 17th century. eebo The perjur'd swain, or, The damsels bloody tragedy :you loyal lovers now that hear this damsels destiny, sure can't forbear to shed a tear at this sad n/a 1686 3 659 6 0 0 0 0 0 91.05 D The rate of 91.05 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the D category of texts with between 35 and 100 defects per 10,000 words. 2014-06 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2014-08 Sampled and proofread 2014-08 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2015-03 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Perjur'd SWAIN ; OR , The Damsels Bloody Tragedy . You Loyal Lovers now that hear this Damsels Destiny ; Sure can't forbear to shed a Tear at this sad Tragedy . The Tune is , Sefautian's Farewel .

This may be Printed ; R. P.

a woman seated on a mountainside, praying

a man with a dagger

AS I rang'd for my Recreation , just as fair Phebus in glory did rise ; I o'reheard a young Damsel in passion , who bath'd her Cheeks with her wat'ry Eyes ; Smiting her Breast , these words she exprest , O where shall I wander to find any rest ? My unkind Swain , has left the Plain , and long have I sought him , and yet alas in vain . I ne'r thought you could have been ●ruel , when you my Person did dearly adore ; Saying , I was your amorous Iewel ; and vow'd you'lov'd me a thousand times more . Then all the Gold you e're did behold , but I find that passionate Love is soon cold ; When Maids believe , Young-men deceive , and that is the reason that I lament and grieve . By cach false and flattering Story , my Heart to love you was easie betray'd ; This has clearly Eclipsed my Glory . and you have Ruin'd an innocent of aid , Whose bitter crys , now pierces the Shies , while you do both Triumph and Tyrannize Over me here , sharp and severe , for loving so loyal , my Life must pay full dear . HEre I make my moan to the Mounntains , and senceless trees which are here in the Grove , While my Eyes they do flow like two Fountains , sad sighs I send for the loss of my Love : Here I declare , I am in dispair , my passion is more than I 'm able to bear ; True Love , I find , distracts my mind , O Strephon , now tell me , how can you be unkind . Pale-fac'd Death come hither and seize me why should I live here in sorrow and grief ? O , it lies in thy power to ease me , 't is thou art able to yield me relief : Here let me have a sweet s●ient Grave , for that is the boon I desire to crave ; To ease my smart , let me depart , without long delaying , come wound me to the heart● . Since my Swain has prov'd so ungrateful , I here lye wrack'd on the torments of love ; Surely never was Man more deceitful , he often call'd to the Powers above To justifie , his pure Loyalty , yet he from his vows and his promise can flye ; Here I take on , do what I can , sure there is no Creature so false as wretched Man . My sweet Lambs that are round me a feeding ▪ here in this Valley both safe and secure ; While my innocent heart lies a bleeding , you are not sensible what I endure : What heaviness , my Soul does possess , my Pen is not able alas , to express ; Yet soon I 'll be , from my pains free , for why should I languish in grief and misery . To my Swain my love was intire , and can't forget him as long as I live ; Therefo●e here I do vow to expire , and will this minute the fatal stroak give : Then she apply'd , a Da●r to her side , which made a deep wound , so that quickly she dy'd : In midst of pain , she cry'd amain , farwel to the world , and my false & perjur'd Swain FINIS .

Printed for J. Blare , at the Sign of the Looking-Glass on London-Bridge .