Page:National Ballad and Song (1897), vol. 1.djvu/44

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22
THE MERIE BALLAD
[? hates]he is the scorne of time, and hath my blisse:
Time nere lookes backe; the river nere returnes;
a second spring must helpe, or elles I burne:
[Petyt MS.][No, no, the well is dry that should refresh me,
The glasse is runne of all my destinie:
Nature, of winter leauneth, nigardize,
Who, as he ouerbeares the streame with ice
That man nor beaste maie of their pleasance taste,
So shutts she up hir conduit all in haste,
And will not let her Nectar ouerflowe,
Least mortall man immortall ioyes should knowe.
Adieu, unconstant loue, to thy disporte;
Adieu, false mirth, and melodies too shorte;
Adieu, faint-hearted instrument of lust,
That falsely hath betrayde our equale trust.]
Hensforth I will noe more implore thine ayde,
Or thee for euer of Cowardice shall vpprayd:
My little dildoe shall supplye your kinde,
a youth that is as light as leaues in winde:
He bendeth not, nor fouldeth any deale,
but standes as stiffe as he were made of steele;
[Petyt MS.][And playes at peacock twixt my leggs right blithe
And doeth my tickling swage with manie a sighe;]
And when I will, he doth refresh me well,
and neuer makes my tender belly swell.”
Poore Priapus, thy kingdom needes must fall,
eccept thou thrust this weakling to the wall;
Behould how he vsurpes in bed and bower,