ollow
And make white those tresses yellow;
Wrinkled face, for looks delightful,
Shall acquaint the dame despiteful.
And when time shall date thy glory,
Then too late thou wilt be sorry.
Siren, pleasant foe to reason,
Cupid plague thee for thy treason!

From THOMAS WEELKES' _Ballets and Madrigals_, 1598.

Now is my Chloris fresh as May,
Clad all in green and flowers gay.
Fa la la!
O might I think August were near
That harvest joy might soon appear.
Fa la la!
But she keeps May throughout the year,
And August never comes the near.
Fa la la!
Yet will I hope, though she be May,
August will come another day.
Fa la la!

From THOMAS MORLEY's _First Book of Ballets_, 1595.

Now is the month of maying,
When merry lads are playing
Each with his bonny lass
Upon the greeny grass.
Fa la la!

The spring clad all in gladness
Doth laugh at winter's sadness,
And to the bagpipe's sound
The nymphs tread out their ground.
Fa la la!

Fie then, why sit we musing,
Youth's sweet delight refusing?
Say, dainty nymphs, and speak,
Shall we play barley-break.
Fa la la!

From THOMAS CAMPION's _Third Book of Airs_ (circ. 1613).

Now let her change! and spare not!
Since she proves strange, I care not!
Feigned love charmed so my delight,
That still I doted on her sight.
But she is gone! new joys embracing,
And my distress disgracing.

When did I err in blindness?
Or vex her with unkindness?
If my cares served her alone,
Why is she thus untimely gone?
True love abides to th' hour of dying:
False love is ever flying.

False! then farewell for ever!
Once false proves faithful never!
He that boasts now of thy love,
Shall soon, my present fortunes prove
Were he as fair as bright Adonis:
Faith is not had where none is!

From THOMAS WEELKES' _Madrigals of Five and Six Parts_, 1600

Now let us make a merry greeting
And thank God Cupid for our meeting:
My heart is full of joy and pleasure
Since thou art here, mine only treasure.
Now will we dance and sport and play
And sing a merry roundelay.

From ROBERT JONES's _Second Book of Airs_, 1601.