A Lovers newest Curranto, or the Lamentation of a young mans folly.
To a pleasant new tune.
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AS it fell upon a day,
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in the merry moneth of may:
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Sitting in a pleasant shade,
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with a gowne of mertle made?
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Beasts did leape and birds did sing,
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trees they grow and plants they spring,
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Every bird sings bannish mone,
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save the Nightingale alone:
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She poore bird as all forlorne
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leanes her breast unto a thorne:
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Where she sung this mournefull ditty,
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that to heere it twas great pitty:
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Fie, fie, fie, now can she cry.
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to-ra-ra-ra-ra-ro-by and by:
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For to heare her thus complaine.
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scarse from teares I could refraine,
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For her griefe so lively showne,
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makes me thinke upon my owne.
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O thought I thou monest in vaine,
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none takes pitty of thy paine:
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Senselesse trees they cannot heere thee:
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retchles birds they will not cheere thee,
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King anoy he is dead,
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and all thy friends are clad in lead,
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All thy fellow birds do sing,
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carelesse of thy sorrowing:
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While that fickle fortune smiled,
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thou and I were both beguiled:
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Every one that flatters thee,
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is no friend in misery,
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When that I was prodigall,
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bountifull they did me call:
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And with such flattering,
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pitty but I were a King,
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But when fortune chanced to frowne,
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then farewell thy high renowne,
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He is thy friend and friend in deed,
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that stickes to thee in time of need,
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When thou sorrowest he will weepe:
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when thou wakest he will not sleepe,
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Thus with every greefe in heart,
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he with thee will beare a part.
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First entised by many wiles,
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and by fortunes fickle smiles:
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Griefe it is my cheefest song,
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sorrow to me doth belong,
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Still I waite and moane to see,
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my hard hap and misery.
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When all my money it was spent,
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no credit unto me he lent:
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But straight they turnd me out of doore,
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to beg my bread among the poore.
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Thus fortune first on me did smile,
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and afterwards did me beguile,
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Wherefore I wish all youthes that see,
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to take warning heere by mee.
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How that they follow Venus trace.
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feare least they come to great disgrace,
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For she like Syrens will them intice,
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and afterwards will them despise,
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FINIS.
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