Percy's Reliques - Corydon's Farewell to Phillis.

Corydon's Farewell to Phillis.

is an attempt to paint a lover's irresolution, but so poorly executed, that it would not have been admitted into this collection, if it had not been quoted in Shakspeare's Twelfth Night, act ii. sc. 3.-- It is found in a little ancient miscellany, intitled, The Golden Garland of Princely Delights, 12mo. black-letter.

            In the same scene of the Twelfth Night, Sir Toby sings a scrap of an old ballad, which is preserved in the Pepys Collection [vol. i. pp. 33, 496.]; but as it is not only a poor dull performance, but also very long, it will be sufficient here to give the first stanza:

THE BALLAD OF CONSTANT SUSANNA.

"There dwelt a man in Babylon
Of reputation great by fame;
He took to wife a faire woman,
Susanna she was callde by name:
A woman fair and vertuous;
                Lady, lady:
Why should we not of her learn thus
                    To live godly?"

            If this song of Corydon, &c. has not more merit, it is at least an evil of less magnitude.

FAREWELL, dear love; since thou wilt needs be gone,
Mine eyes do shew, my life is almost done.
Nay I will never die, so long as I can spie
There be many mo, though that she doe goe,
There be many mo, I fear not:
Why then let her goe, I care not.

Farewell, farewell; since this I find is true,
 I will not spend more time in wooing you:
  But I will seek elsewhere, if I may find love there:
   Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe?
    Shall I bid her goe and spare not?
     O no, no, no, I dare not.

Ten thousand times farewell;-- yet stay a while:--
 Sweet, kiss me once; sweet kisses time beguile:
   I have no power to move. How now am I in love?
    Wilt thou needs be gone? Go then, all is one.
     Wilt thou needs be gone? Oh, hie thee!
      Nay stay, and do no more deny me.

Once more adieu, I see loath to depart
 Bids oft adieu to her, that holds my heart.
  But seeing I must lose thy love, which I did choose,
   Goe thy way for me, since that may not be.
    Goe thy ways for me. But whither?
     Goe, oh, but where I may come thither.

What shall I doe? my love is now departed.
 She is as fair, as she is cruel-hearted.
  She would not be intreated, with prayers oft repeated,
   If she come no more, shall I die therefore?
    If she come no more, what care I?
     Faith, let her goe, or come, or tarry.

 

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