An antidote against melancholy: made up in pills. Compounded of witty ballads, jovial songs, and merry catches.

About this Item

Title
An antidote against melancholy: made up in pills. Compounded of witty ballads, jovial songs, and merry catches.
Author
J. P.
Publication
London :: printed for John Playford at his shop in the Temple,
1669.
Rights/Permissions

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Subject terms
English wit and humor
Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A82147.0001.001
Cite this Item
"An antidote against melancholy: made up in pills. Compounded of witty ballads, jovial songs, and merry catches." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A82147.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 3, 2024.

Pages

The Amorous Welshman to his Mistress.

A Modest Shentle when hir see The creat laugh her make on me, And fine wink that her send To hir, to come see hir frend; Hir could not chuse pi got aprove, Put 'twas entangle in her Love.
A Hundred tymes hir was a pout To speak to her to panish dout, Put hir being a Welshman porn, Was fer her think her wod hir scorn; And therefore was think nothing petter Then put her love into a letter.
Hoping her will no ceptions take Unto hir love for Country sake; For say hr be Welshman, what tan; Pi got they be all Shentlemen: Was desended from Shoves nown lyne, Part Humain, and part Divine.
And from far Fenu that far gottess, And twenty other shentle poddies: ector stout, and comely Paris, Arthur Plutus King of Faries Was hir own Cosen aull a Kin, Au'l of the Powel's issue spring.

Page 114

Was love compel hir write this Ryme That never was wrytt before this time, And if her will not pitty hir pain Got sudge hir soul was never write again; Put if her vouchsafe to pleasure me, And for to come into her company
To drink a quart, or too of wine, Pi got hir will say her fortunes fine; And tell her something in her eare Which her would not have aul to hear: And pi the Saul of sweet St. Taffie Or in kindness her would crave ye
For to wryte too word or three VVhen and where our meet shall be, For love is like an Acue fit, VVas trive poor Welshman out of hir wit; Till py her answer her do know VVhether her do love her yea or noe.
Hir have not pin in England long And hir cannot speak the English Tongue, Put hir is her friend, and so hir will prove, I pray send hir word if her can love.
Theise Verses I send Peing rudly pend.
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