The lovers Gift, Or a Fairing for Maids: Being a Dialogue between Edmund and Prisilly.  
To a pleasant new tune.  

 
 Edmund. 

MY Love she is fair,  
su●passin●compare,  
More bright, then was Daphne the coy:  
Her two starry eyes,  
My heart did surprise,  
Being struck by the blinded Boy,  
See where she doth come,  
Her sight strikes me dumb,  
I'll speak though to speak it grieve me,  
My own gentle sweeting  
I am glad of this meeting,  

Thou know'st not what I have to give thee.    Prisilly. 

I pray thee give over,  
Entice me no more,  
In suing for love thou dost move me.  
For I tell thee plain,  
I do thee disdain,  
I have not the power to love thee:  
My answer you know,  
You backward may go,  
For it is another must shrive me:  
Thy face I despise,  
for thy great goggle eyes,  

I care not what thou hast to give me.    Edmund. 

Thou joy of my life,  
what need all this strife,  
Thou know'st that I love thee more,  
Then Pyramid,  
When Thisbe was his,  
Who after by a Lion was tore:  
Queen juno did move,  
The olympical jove,  
Yet so will not Edmund grieve thee,  
I pray thee sweet heart,  
Some kind words impart,  

Thou know'st not what I have to give thee.    Prisilly. 

As juno did moon  
The thunderer jove,  
Prisilly will strive for to move thee,  
Thy rustical words  
No matter affords,  
To make a young maiden to love thee,  
Learn wit for to woe  
Or I cannot do,  
Nor will I in ought believe thee,  
I pray thee give over,  
Torment me no more,  

I care not what thou hast to give me.    Edmund. 

Why maiden so bright,  
My birth do not spite,  
For I do not murmur at there,  
But think with thyself,  
though thy father have pelf,  
Thy birth cannot equal mine:  
Thy virtues doth move  
Poor Edmund to love,  
And still shall if thou wilt believe me,  
Let love not be vain  
But love me again,  

Thou know'st not what I have to give thee.    Prisilly. 

Nay grieve not at this  
For what is amiss,  
I'll strive for to make thee amends,  
To leave off delay,  
Faith what would you say,  
If you and I joined like friends▪  
If to your desert  
My love I impart,  
And that I should fond believe thee,  
I doubt you would prove  
Disloyal in love,  

And you would that same gift give me,     

Second part of the lovers gift,  
to the same tune.  
 
 Edmund. 

Dear sweet would you join,  
Your love unto mine,  
My love should for ever stand sure,  
Or to end the strife  
Wouldst thou be my wife,  
Like Turtles we both would endure:  
There should not proceed  
No bad word nor deed,  
That should have the power to grieve thee,  
We'll live till we die  
Most merrily,  

Thou know'st not what I have to give thee.    Prisilly. 

Since nothing can shift,  
Say what is the gift,  
That you upon me would bestow,  
And if I do find  
It contenteth my mind,  
Then more of my love you shall know,  
That gift will me move,  
To like as I love,  
There quickly repeat it to me,  
And here I protest,  
My heart shall rest,  
Thou and I strait will agree.   Edmund. 

Then if you'll agree,  
To marry with me,  
I'll make thee a jointer by the year:  
And set down profound  
five hundred pound.  
And all for the love of my dear:  
What a woman can crave,  
Be sure to have,  
And if that thou durst to believe me,  
'Tis a gift most rare,  
To a maiden so fair,  

Lo this is the gift I will give thee.    Prisilly. 

This gift is of force  
To make your recourse,  
The easier to my bed,  
No longer lets tarry,  
But strait let us marry,  
And then take my maidenhead:  
No longer I can  
Live without a man.  
Then pray thee sweet heart believe me,  
I'll love thee still,  
If with a good will.  

This pretty gift thou wilt give me.    Edmund. 

Then sweeting pray come,  
I long till 'tis done,  
To Church let us high us with speed,  
I can when I list,  
Procure a blind Priest,  
Which for us shall do this same deed,   Prisi. 

Then sweet let us go,  
We must not be slow,  
If ever you mean to win me,  
But think upon this,  
That you do not miss,  

This same pretty gift to give me,    Author. 

Away than they went,  
And fulfilled there intent,  
Unto their great comfort and joy,  
Forty weeks being past  
This young wife at the last,  
Did bring her young husband a boy,  
Heaven send all young wives,  
To lead honest lives,  
And husbands to live with them kind.  
May wives strive to please,  
All such husbands as these  
That are of so honest a mind.     

Printed at London for john Trundle, and are to be sold at his shop in Barbic●●.