A Love Song

I lov’d a lasse, a faire one, As faire as e’er was seene; She was, indeed, a rare one, Another Sheba queen;

But, foole, as then I was, I thought she lov’d me too; But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

Her haire, like gold, did glister; Each eye was like a starre; She did surpasse her sister, Which past all others farre:

She would me hony call: She’d, oh, she’d kisse me too! But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

In summer-time, to Medley My love and I would goe— The boatmen there stood readie My love and I to rowe; For creame there would we call, For cakes, and for prunes too; But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

Many a merry meeting My love and I have had: She was my onely sweeting; She made my heart full glad: The teares stood in her eyes, Like to the morning-dew; But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

And as abroad we walked, As lovers’ fashion is, Oft, as we sweetly talked, The sun would steale a kisse; The winde upon her lips Likewise most sweetly blew; But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

Her cheekes were like the cherrie, Her skin as white as snow; When she was blyth and merrie, She angel-like did show; Her wast exceeding small, The fives did fit her shoo; But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

In summer-time or winter She had her heart’s desire; I stil did scorne to stint her From sugar, sacke, or fire: The world went round about; No cares we ever knew; But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

As we walked home together, At midnight, through the towne, To keepe away the weather, O’re her I’d cast my gowne; No colde my love should feele, Whate’er the heavens could doe; But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

Like doves we would be billing, And clip and kisse so fast, Yet she would be unwilling That I should kisse the last: They’re Judas kisses now, Since that they prov’d untrue; For, now, alasse! sh’as left me, Falero, lero, loo.

To maidens’ vowes and swearing Henceforth no credit give; You may give them the hearing, But never them beleeve: They are as false as faire, Unconstant, fraile, untrue; For mine, alasse! hath left me, Falero, lero, loo.

’Twas I that paid for all things, ’Twas others dranke the wine; I cannot now recall things, Live but a foole to pine: ’Twas I that beat the bush, The bird to others flew; For she, alasse! hath left me, Falero, lero, loo.

If ever that Dame Nature, For this false lover’s sake, Another pleasing creature Like unto her would make, Let her remember this, To make the other true; For this, alasse! hath left me, Falero, lero, loo.

No riches, now, can raise me, No want make me despaire, No miserie amaze me, Nor yet for want I care:

I have lost a world it selfe. My earthly heaven, adue! Since she, alasse! hath left me, Falero, lero, loo.