Songs

Though Amarillis daunce in green,
like Fayrie Queene,
and sing full cleere,
Corina can with smiling cheer:
yet since their eyes make hart so sore,
hey ho, chill love no more.

My sheepe are lost for want of food,
and I so wood:
that all the day,
I sit and watch a heardmaid gaye:
who laughes to see mee sigh so sore,
hey ho, chill love no more.

Her loving lookes, her beautie bright,
is such delight:
that all in vaine,
I love to like, and lose my gaine:
for her that thanks mee not therefore,
hey ho, chill love no more.

Ah wanton eyes my friendly foes,
and cause of woes:
your sweet desire,
breedes flames of ice and freese in fire:
yee skorne to see mee weep so sore,
hey ho, chill love no more.

Love yee who list I force him not,
sith God it wot,
the more I wayle,
the lesse my sighes and teares prevaile,
what shall I doe but say therefore,
hey ho, chill love no more.