







 
   
     
       
         The [f]aithful lovers of the West. Come joyn with me all you that love, and faithful to each other prove: Example take by this my song, all you that stand within this throng. To the tune of, As I walkt forth to take the air. / By William Blundun.
         Blunten, William.
      
       
         
           1680-1685
        
      
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         A76932
         Wing B3363
         ESTC R233064
         45578161
         ocm 45578161
         172117
         
           
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             The [f]aithful lovers of the West. Come joyn with me all you that love, and faithful to each other prove: Example take by this my song, all you that stand within this throng. To the tune of, As I walkt forth to take the air. / By William Blundun.
             Blunten, William.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill.
           
             Printed for P. Brooksby near the Hospital-gate in VVest Smithfield.,
             [London] :
             [between 1680-1685]
          
           
             "The second part, to the same tune."
             Place and date of publication from Wing.
             Includes 4 engraved illustrations.
             Imperfect: cropped with some loss of print.
             Reproduction of original in the Bodleian Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Love poetry, English.
           Ballads, English -- 17th century.
           Broadsides -- England -- London -- 17th century.
        
      
    
     
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           THE
           ●aithful
           Lovers
           of
           the
           West
           .
        
         
           
             Come
             joyn
             with
             me
             all
             you
             that
             Love
             ,
          
           
             And
             faithful
             to
             each
             other
             prove
             :
          
           
             Example
             take
             by
             this
             my
             Song
             ,
          
           
             All
             you
             that
             stand
             within
             this
             Throng
             .
          
        
         
           To
           the
           Tune
           of
           ,
           
             As
             I
             walkt
             forth
             to
             take
             the
             Air.
             
          
        
         
           By
           
             William
             Blundun
          
           .
        
         
           
             
          
           
             
          
           
             
               
                 WHy
                 should
                 I
                 thus
                 complain
                 of
                 thee
                 ?
              
               
                 So
                 cruelly
                 thou
                 murderedst
                 me
                 :
              
               
                 For
                 unto
                 thee
                 it
                 is
                 well
                 known
                 ,
              
               
                 Thou
                 art
                 the
                 Maid
                 I
                 love
                 alone
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 In
                 none
                 but
                 thee
                 I
                 take
                 Delight
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 think
                 on
                 thee
                 both
                 day
                 and
                 night
                 :
              
               
                 I
                 give
                 to
                 thee
                 my
                 heart
                 away
                 ,
              
               
                 Do
                 not
                 with
                 hatred
                 me
                 repay
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 When
                 first
                 thy
                 sweet
                 face
                 I
                 did
                 see
                 ,
              
               
                 I●
                 seemed
                 none
                 was
                 like
                 to
                 thee
                 :
              
               
                 I
                 wish
                 I
                 had
                 not
                 seen
                 the
                 day
                 ,
              
               
                 When
                 first
                 thou
                 stol'st
                 my
                 heart
                 away
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Hard
                 is
                 thy
                 heart
                 ,
                 harder
                 then
                 steel
                 ,
              
               
                 Colder
                 then
                 Ice
                 ,
                 that
                 Frost
                 congeal
                 :
              
               
                 How
                 many
                 thousand
                 times
                 doth
                 make
                 ,
              
               
                 My
                 heart
                 to
                 bleed
                 for
                 thy
                 sweet
                 sake
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 I
                 was
                 forewarned
                 by
                 thine
                 eyes
                 ,
              
               
                 Of
                 thy
                 most
                 killing
                 Cruelties
                 :
              
               
                 But
                 Cupid
                 had
                 so
                 blinded
                 me
                 ,
              
               
                 Now
                 I
                 shall
                 dye
                 for
                 love
                 of
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 But
                 O
                 how
                 good
                 had
                 been
                 my
                 case
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 I
                 had
                 never
                 seen
                 thy
                 face
                 :
              
               
                 My
                 Captive
                 heart
                 had
                 then
                 been
                 free
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 now
                 I
                 can
                 love
                 none
                 but
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 When
                 I
                 am
                 dead
                 ,
                 this
                 thou
                 wilt
                 say
                 ,
              
               
                 That
                 I
                 have
                 cast
                 my
                 Love
                 away
                 :
              
               
                 Too
                 late
                 't
                 will
                 be
                 then
                 to
                 complain
                 ,
              
               
                 If
                 that
                 you
                 do
                 ,
                 it
                 's
                 all
                 in
                 vain
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Therefore
                 my
                 dearest
                 Love
                 comply
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 ease
                 me
                 of
                 this
                 Cruelty
                 :
              
               
                 Let
                 not
                 me
                 dye
                 in
                 this
                 dispair
                 ,
              
               
                 But
                 grant
                 thy
                 love
                 to
                 me
                 ,
                 my
                 Dear
                 ,
              
            
          
        
         
           
             The
             second
             part
             ,
          
           
             to
             the
             same
             Tune
             .
          
           
             
          
           
             
          
           
             
               The
               Maids
               Answer
               .
            
             
               
                 DOubt
                 not
                 my
                 Love
                 ,
                 nor
                 do
                 not
                 fear
              
               
                 Thou
                 art
                 the
                 man
                 that
                 I
                 love
                 dear
              
               
                 I
                 did
                 but
                 try
                 thy
                 Constancy
                 ,
              
               
                 For
                 I
                 do
                 love
                 no
                 man
                 but
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Then
                 grieve
                 no
                 more
                 ,
                 nor
                 yet
                 complain
                 ,
              
               
                 Thy
                 love
                 to
                 me
                 is
                 not
                 in
                 vain
                 :
              
               
                 For
                 constant
                 I
                 will
                 ever
                 be
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 I
                 do
                 love
                 no
                 man
                 but
                 thee
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 why
                 shouldst
                 thou
                 say
                 thy
                 heart
                 will
                 break
              
               
                 And
                 all
                 for
                 love
                 of
                 my
                 sweet
                 sake
                 ?
              
               
                 I
                 constant
                 to
                 thee
                 still
                 will
                 prove
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 ever
                 was
                 the
                 Turtle-Dove
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Nothing
                 shall
                 part
                 my
                 Love
                 and
                 I
                 ,
              
               
                 Vntil
                 the
                 very
                 day
                 we
                 dye
                 :
              
               
                 We
                 'l
                 live
                 in
                 love
                 ,
                 and
                 so
                 agree
                 ,
              
               
                 As
                 man
                 and
                 wife
                 they
                 ought
                 to
                 be
                 .
              
            
          
        
         
           
             The
             Young-Mans
             Answer
             .
          
           
             
               
                 Oh
                 thanks
                 be
                 to
                 the
                 Heaven
                 above
                 ,
              
               
                 Now
                 I
                 have
                 gain'd
                 my
                 dearest
                 love
                 :
              
               
                 Thy
                 words
                 doth
                 me
                 so
                 much
                 revive
                 ,
              
               
                 I
                 am
                 the
                 happiest
                 man
                 alive
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Come
                 let
                 us
                 to
                 the
                 Church
                 away
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 Married
                 be
                 without
                 delay
                 :
              
               
                 Although
                 our
                 Portions
                 be
                 but
                 small
                 ,
              
               
                 True
                 love
                 is
                 better
                 worth
                 then
                 all
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 So
                 hand
                 in
                 hand
                 away
                 they
                 went
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 had
                 their
                 Parents
                 free
                 consent
                 :
              
               
                 The
                 musick
                 then
                 most
                 sweet
                 did
                 play
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 thus
                 did
                 end
                 their
                 wedding
                 day
                 .
              
            
             
               
                 Young-men
                 and
                 Maids
                 in
                 love
                 agree
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 let
                 this
                 Song
                 a
                 pattern
                 be
                 :
              
               
                 The
                 price
                 you
                 know
                 it
                 is
                 but
                 small
                 ,
              
               
                 A
                 Penny
                 a
                 piece
                 ,
                 and
                 take
                 them
                 all
                 .
              
            
          
           
             EINIS
             .
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
           Printed
           for
           
             P.
             Brooksby
          
           near
           the
           Hospital-gate
           in
           VVest-Smithfield
           .
        
      
    
  

