SONG 10. A favourite mad song

My lodging is on the cold ground, And very hard is my fate; But that which grieves me more, love, Is the coldness of my dear: Yet still she cried, turn love, I pray thee love turn to me; For thou art the only girl, love, That is ador'd by me.

With a garland of straw I will crown thee, love, I'll marry you with a rush ring: Thy frozen heart shall melt with love, So merrily I shall sing. Yet still, &c.

But if you will harden your heart, love, And be deaf to my pitiful moan: Oh! I must endure the smart, love, And tumble in straw all alone. Yet still, &c.