My body bad let be, and of thy sighing When that I went with that sweet May,1 Though thou do murn and weep with Right trimly passand to and fro, inward spreit opprest, When other men take sleep, thou wants the nightis rest: She whom thou lovis best of thee takes little thought, Thy woe, and great wanrest, and care, she countis nought. VIII. Therefore go hence in haste my languor to lament, Do not my body waste, whilk never did consent, And though thou would repent, that thou My heart, sen thou may not her please, her has pursued, Yet maun thou stand content, and drink that thou has brewed. Adieu! as good love comes as gaes, Go choose ane other and forget her : God give him dolour and disease, That breaks his heart, and nought the better. |