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         Playford, John, 1623-1686?
      
       
         
           1670
        
      
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         B04714
         Wing P2487A
         Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[315]
         99887799
         ocm99887799
         183459
         
           
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             Love in the blossome: or, Fancy in the bud. Containing a pretty, pleasant and delightful courtship, betwixt two very young (but truly amorous) lovers, being persons of very eminent quality, (at their first entrance into Cupid's school.) To the tune of, Amarillis told her swain. / J.P.
             Playford, John, 1623-1686?
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts).
           
             s.n.,
             [London :
             1670?]
          
           
             Attributed to John Playford by Wing.
             Verse: "One summers evening fresh and fair ..."
             Imprint suggested by Wing.
             Trimmed.
             Reproduction of original in the British Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Love poetry, English -- Early works to 1800.
           Ballads, English -- 17th century.
        
      
    
     
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           Love
           in
           the
           Blossome
           :
           Or
           ,
           
             Fancy
             in
             the
             Bud.
          
           
        
         
           
             Containing
             a
             Pretty
             ,
             Pleasant
             and
             Delightful
             Courtship
             ,
             betwixt
             two
             very
             Young
             (
             but
             truly
             Amorous
             )
             Lovers
             ,
             being
             persons
             of
             very
             Eminent
             Quality
             ,
             (
             at
             their
             first
             entrance
             into
             Cupids
             School
             .
             )
          
        
         
           To
           the
           tune
           of
           ,
           
             Amarillis
             told
             her
             Swain
          
           .
           
             J.
             P.
             
          
        
         
           
        
         
           
        
         
           
             ONe
             Summer
             evening
             fresh
             and
             fair
             ,
          
           
             Walking
             out
             to
             take
             the
             Ayre
             ,
          
           
             Near
             to
             the
             Court
             ,
             where
             Gallants
             sport
             ,
          
           
             I
             carefully
             did
             wander
             ,
          
           
             VVhereas
             in
             State
             ,
             two
             Lovers
             sate
          
           
             Like
             Hero
             and
             Leander
             .
          
        
         
           
             It
             was
             under
             a
             pleasant
             shade
             ,
          
           
             VVhere
             this
             prety
             Couple
             plaid
          
           
             They
             did
             not
             fear
             to
             be
             betray'd
          
           
             Nor
             had
             not
             yet
             espi'd
             me
             ,
          
           
             To
             hear
             them
             prattle
             down
             I
             laid
             ,
          
           
             And
             closely
             I
             did
             hide
             me
             .
          
        
         
           
             They
             were
             both
             of
             tender
             age
             ,
          
           
             In
             loves
             affairs
             for
             to
             ingage
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             Cupids
             craft
             ,
             with
             feather'd
             shaft
          
           
             Had
             wounded
             them
             at
             distance
             ,
          
           
             No
             humane
             art
             can
             cure
             the
             smart
             ,
          
           
             In
             vain
             was
             their
             resistance
             .
          
        
         
           
             This
             young
             Gallant
             ▪
             stripling
             sate
          
           
             By
             his
             loving
             Lady-mate
             ,
          
           
             And
             amorously
             began
             to
             prate
          
           
             He
             had
             both
             time
             and
             leisure
             ,
          
           
             VVith
             kisses
             sweet
             ,
             their
             lips
             did
             meet
             ,
          
           
             VVherein
             they
             took
             great
             pleasure
             .
          
        
         
           
             She
             in
             Cloth
             of
             Gold
             did
             shine
             ,
          
           
             And
             her
             Beauty
             seem'd
             divine
             ,
          
           
             I
             often
             wisht
             she
             had
             been
             mine
          
           
             Fain
             would
             I
             be
             his
             Taster
             ;
          
           
             But
             not
             one
             bit
             ,
             that
             I
             could
             get
             ,
          
           
             T
             was
             meat
             fit
             for
             my
             Master
             .
          
        
         
           
             Having
             now
             both
             time
             and
             place
          
           
             Lovingly
             for
             to
             imbrace
             ,
          
           
             This
             Gallants
             care
             ,
             was
             to
             prepare
          
           
             The
             Art
             of
             Love
             to
             show
             her
             :
          
           
             Then
             near
             I
             stept
             and
             closely
             crept
             ,
          
           
             And
             thus
             I
             heard
             him
             woe
             her
             .
          
        
         
           
             
               DEarest
               Love
               and
               Lady
               mine
               ,
            
             
               Let
               our
               hearts
               in
               one
               combine
               ,
            
             
               VVithin
               your
               brest
               ,
               my
               soul
               doth
               rest
            
             
               Great
               Cupid
               hath
               betray'd
               me
               :
            
             
               To
               kill
               or
               cure
               ,
               't
               is
               in
               your
               power
            
             
               Your
               Captive
               he
               hath
               made
               me
               .
            
          
           
             
               At
               your
               mercy
               now
               I
               lie
               ,
            
             
               Grant
               me
               Love
               or
               else
               I
               die
               ,
            
             
               By
               virtue
               of
               your
               eye
               ;
            
             
               Dear
               heart
               in
               love
               I
               languish
               ,
            
             
               Then
               be
               not
               coy
               my
               only
               joy
            
             
               But
               heal
               me
               of
               my
               anguish
               .
            
          
        
         
           
        
         
           
             Then
             she
             made
             this
             sweet
             reply
          
        
         
           
             
               A
               stranger
               unto
               Love
               am
               I
               ,
            
             
               Good
               Sir
               forbear
               ,
               let
               me
               not
               hear
            
             
               Of
               bondage
               at
               this
               season
               :
            
             
               The
               Ciprian
               Boy
               shall
               not
               destroy
            
             
               My
               freedome
               and
               my
               Reason
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               if
               ever
               I
               should
               prove
               ,
            
             
               Subject
               to
               the
               God
               of
               Love
               ,
            
             
               Methinks
               my
               mind
               is
               so
               inclin'd
            
             
               Your
               Courtship
               is
               so
               moving
               ,
            
             
               No
               one
               but
               you
               ,
               whom
               I
               do
               know
               ,
            
             
               Shall
               teach
               me
               th'
               art
               of
               loving
               ,
            
          
        
         
           
             Then
             he
             was
             quick
             to
             speak
             again
             ,
          
           
             Whilest
             his
             hopes
             afresh
             remain
             ;
          
           
             He
             sometimes
             kist
             ,
             and
             sometimes
             mist
          
           
             According
             as
             she
             strugled
             .
          
           
             But
             had
             they
             stai'd
             ,
             i
             'me
             half
             afraid
          
           
             His
             ●o●es
             he
             would
             have
             doubled
             .
          
        
         
           
             Now
             to
             break
             off
             their
             delight
          
           
             They
             saw
             coming
             in
             their
             sight
          
           
             Another
             pair
             ,
             both
             fresh
             and
             fair
          
           
             Of
             spruce
             and
             amorous
             Lovers
             ;
          
           
             And
             being
             met
             ,
             they
             made
             no
             let
          
           
             But
             all
             their
             love
             discovers
             .
          
        
         
           
             Then
             they
             walked
             hand
             in
             hand
             ,
          
           
             Subject
             all
             to
             loves
             command
             :
          
           
             I
             could
             not
             lye
             but
             up
             got
             I
          
           
             To
             see
             some
             further
             sport
             Sir
             ,
          
           
             'T
             was
             almost
             dark
             ,
             when
             ore
             the
             Park
          
           
             I
             see
             them
             pass
             toth
             '
             Court
             Sir.
             
          
        
         
           
             Then
             I
             wisht
             that
             I
             had
             there
          
           
             Such
             a
             pretty
             Lady
             near
          
           
             To
             court
             and
             kiss
             ,
             to
             hit
             and
             miss
             ,
          
           
             As
             others
             had
             been
             wooing
             ;
          
           
             But
             all
             in
             vain
             I
             might
             complain
             ,
          
           
             For
             I
             could
             not
             be
             doing
             .
          
        
      
    
     
  

