Amintor's lam[en]tation [for Celia's unkindness.] Setting forth the passion of a young man, who falling in love with a coy lady that had no kindness for him, persued his inclinations so far, that she was forced to fly beyond the sea, to avoid the importunity of his address, whereupon he thus complains. Both sexes from this song may learn, of what they should beware: how in extreams they may discern, unkindness and dispair. To a delicate new tune: or, Since Celias my foe. Duffett, Thomas. 1676 Approx. 5 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B02795 Wing D2442 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[9] 99887593 ocm99887593 183218 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B02795) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183218) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A5:2[9]) Amintor's lam[en]tation [for Celia's unkindness.] Setting forth the passion of a young man, who falling in love with a coy lady that had no kindness for him, persued his inclinations so far, that she was forced to fly beyond the sea, to avoid the importunity of his address, whereupon he thus complains. Both sexes from this song may learn, of what they should beware: how in extreams they may discern, unkindness and dispair. To a delicate new tune: or, Since Celias my foe. Duffett, Thomas. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for P. Brooksby, near the Hospital-gate in West-smithfield., [London] : [1676] Verse: "Since Celia's my foe ..." Place and date of publication suggested by Wing. Imperfect: torn, with partial loss of title. Reproduction of original in the British Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). 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Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. 2008-05 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2008-08 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-09 John Pas Sampled and proofread 2008-09 John Pas Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion Amintor's lam●●tation 〈…〉 Setting forth the passion of a Young man , who falling in love with a coy Lady that had no kindness for him , persued his inclinations so far , that she was forced to fly beyond Sea , to avoid the importunity of his Address , whereupon he thus complains . Both Sexes from this Song may learn , of what they should beware : How in extreams they may discern , Vnkindness and dispair . To a delicate New Tune : Or , Since Celias my foe . SInce Celia's my Foe , To a Desart I le go , Where some River for ever shall eccho my Wo ! The Trees will appear More relenting than her , In the morning , adorning , each Leaf with a tear . When I make my sad moan , To the Rocks all alone , From each hollow Will follow some pittiful groan : But with silent disdain , She requites all my pain : To my mourning , returning , no answer again . O why was I born , To a Fate so forlorn , To inherit , Not merit her anger , or scorn : My affection is such , As no blemish can touch , Yet i 'm flighted , and spighted for loving too much . Perhaps cou'd I prove , More unjust to my love , I might find her , yet kinder , and pitty might move , But I 'le chuse to obey , Tho' I dye by the way ; Yet 't is better , Than get her , by going astray . Then why shou'd you fly , My fair Celia ? O why ? When to please ye 't is casse , for Amintas to dye . If your Lover you 'd shun , You no danger shall run , Him you banish will vanish , And from you he gone . Stay Celia unkind , Will you leave me behind , Let me enter , and venture my self with the Wind. Ah! from me will you part , Who so love your desert , Either tarry , Or carry your slave with his heart . Were you but secure , I 'de your absence endure , Were all danger a stranger to Virgins so pure : But some insolent wave , May your merit out brave , Both regardless , and careless What vertues you have . Yet Storms shall not dare , To assault one so fair , To attend you I 'le send you , sighs softer than air : The Nymphs of the Deep , My dear Celia shall keep , On a Pillow , each Billow Shall lull you asleep . The Seas they shall dance , And the Winds shall advance , With your Gally To dally , and guide you to France ; While I from the Shore , My fair Idol adore ; Till that Neptune your Captain , Hath wafted you o're . Then Celia adieu , When I cease to pursue , You 'l discover No Lover was ever so true , Your sad Shepherd flies From those dear cruel eyes , Which not seeing his being , Decays and he dies . Yet 't is better to run To the fates we can't shun , Then for ever T'endeavor what cannot be won : What ye Gods have I done That Amintor alone , Is thus treated , and hated for loving but one ? And thus I complain , Tho 't is all but in vain , Yet the trouble is double , to stifle my pain : The Sea or the Shore , I as well might implore , They 'r as moving , and loving as her I adore . Then since 't is the fate Of my wretched estate , Without pitty , 'T is fit I submit to her hate . For as Winter comes on When Apollo is gone , So declining , and pining , She leaves me alone . Printed for P. Brooksby , near the Hospital-gate in West-smithfield .