Anonymous · published 1600 · first performed or written 1600 [1599-1600] (Annals) pastoral; romance · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 515 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Shall then my travel ever endless prove? That I can hear no tidings of my Love? In neither desert, grove, nor shady wood, Nor obscure thicket, where my foot hath trod? But every ploughman, and rude shepherd swain, Doth still reply unto my greater pain? Some Satire then, or Goddess of this place, Some water Nymph, vouchsafe me so much grace As by some view, some sign, or other sho, I may have knowledge if she live or no. No. Then my poor heart is buried too in woe: Record it once more, if the truth be so? So. How, that Eurymine is dead, or lives? Lives. Now gentle Goddess thou redeemest my soul From death to life: Oh tell me quickly where? Where? In some remote far region, or else near? near. Oh what conceals her from my thirsty eyes? Is it restraint? or some unknown disguise? Disguise. Let me be hanged my Lord, but all is lies. Lies. True, we are both persuaded thou dost lie. Thou dost lie. Who I? Who I? I thou. I thou. Thou dar'st not come and say so to my face. Thy face. I'll make you then for ever prating more. More. Will ye prate more? I'll see that presently. Stay Ioculo, it is the Echo Boy, That mocks our grief, and laughs at our annoy. Hard by this grove there is a goodly plain Betwixt two hills, still fresh with drops of rain: Where never spreading Oak nor Poplar grew, Might hinder the prospect or other view, But all the country that about it lies, Presents itself unto our mortal eyes: Save that upon each hill, by levy trees, The Sun at highest, his scorching heat may lose. There languishing myself I will betake, As heaven shall please, and only for her sake. Stay master, I have spied the fellow now, that mocked us all this while: see where he sits. The very shape my Vision told me off, That I should meet with as I strayed this way. What lines he draws? best go not over far. Let me alone, thou dost but trouble me. You'll trouble us all anon, ye shall see. God speed fair Sir. My Lord do ye not mark? How the sky thickens, and begins to dark? Health to ye Sir. Nay then God be our speed. Forgive me Sir, I saw ye not indeed. Pardon me rather, for molesting you. Such another face I never knew. Thus studious I am wont to pass the time, By true proportion, of each line from line. Oh now I see he was learning to spell, There's A. B. C. in midst of his table. Tell me I pray ye sir, may I be bold to crave The cause of your abode within this Cave? To tell you that in this extreme distress, Were but a tale of Fortune's fickleness. Sometime I was a Prince of Lesbos I'll, And lived beloved, whilst my good stars did smile: But clouded once with this world's bitter cross, My joy to grief, my gain converts to loss.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Shall then my trauell euer endles proue? That I can heare no tydings of my Loue? In neither deſart, groue, nor ſhadie wood, Nor obſcure thicket, where my foote hath trod? But euery plough-man, and rude ſhepheard ſwain, Doth ſtill reply vnto my greater paine? Some Satyre then, or Goddeſſe of this place, Some water Nymph, vouchſafe me ſo much grace As by ſome view, ſome ſigne, or other ſho, I may haue knowledge if ſhe liue or no. No. Then my poore hart is buried too in wo: Record it once more, if the truth be ſo? So. How, that Eurymine is dead, or liues? Liues. Now gentle Goddeſſe thou redeem'ſt my ſoule From death to life: Oh tell me quickly where? Where? In ſome remote far region, or elſe neere? Neere. Oh what conceales her from my thirſtie eies? Is it reſtraint? or ſome vnknowne diſguiſe? Diſguiſe. Let me be hangd my Lord, but all is lyes. Lyes. True, we are both perſwaded thou doeſt lye. Thou doeſt lye. Who I? Who I? I thou. I thou. Thou dar'ſt not come and ſay ſo to my face. Thy face. Ile make you then for euer prating more. More. Will ye prate more? Ile ſee that preſently. Stay Ioculo, it is the Eccho Boy, That mocks our griefe, and laughes at our annoy. Hard by this groue there is a goodly plaine Betwixt two hils, ſtill freſh with drops of raine: Where neuer ſpreading Oake nor Poplar grew, Might hinder the proſpect or other view, But all the country that about it lyes, Preſents it ſelfe vnto our mortall eyes: Saue that vpon each hill, by leauie trees, The Sun at higheſt, his ſcorching heat may leeſe. There languiſhing my ſelfe I will betake, As heauen ſhall pleaſe, and only for her ſake. Stay maiſter, I haue ſpied the fellow now, that mockt vs all this while: ſee where he ſits. The very ſhape my Viſion told me off, That I ſhould meet with as I ſtrayd this way. What lynes he drawes? beſt go not ouer farre. Let me alone, thou doeſt but trouble mee. Youle trouble vs all annon, ye ſhall ſee. God ſpeed faire Sir. My Lord doo ye not marke? How the skie thickens, and begins to darke? Health to ye Sir. Nay then God be our ſpeed. Forgiue me Sir, I ſawe ye not indeed. Pardon me rather, for moleſting you. Such another face I neuer knew. Thus ſtudious I am wont to paſſe the time, By true proportion, of each line from line. Oh now I ſee he was learning to ſpell, Theres A. B. C. in midſt of his table. Tel me I pray ye ſir, may I be bold to craue The cauſe of your abode within this Caue? To tell you that in this extreme diſtreſſe, Were but a tale of Fortunes fickleneſſe. Sometime I was a Prince of Lesbos Ile, And liu'd belou'd, whilſt my good ſtars did ſmile: But clowded once with this worlds bitter croſſe, My ioy to grife, my gaine conuerts to loſſe.