I got me to the woods, Love followed me.
Hey, jolly Robin, &c.

[8] Old ed.,--"Love with obeyednes and a winke could winne."

From MICHAEL ESTE's _Madrigals of three, four and five parts_, 1604. (By
Nicholas Breton. Originally published in 1591.)

In the merry month of May,
On a morn by break of day,
Forth I walk'd by the wood-side,
Whereas May was in her pride:
There I spyed all alone
Phillida and Corydon.
Much ado there was, God wot!
He would love and she would not.
She said, never man was true;
He said, none was false to you.
He said, he had loved her long;
She said, Love should have no wrong.
Corydon would kiss her then;
She said, maids must kiss no men
Till they did for good and all;
Then she made the shepherd call
All the heavens to witness truth
Never lov'd a truer youth.
Thus with many a pretty oath,
Yea and nay, and faith and troth,
Such as seely shepherds use
When they will not love abuse,
Love, which had been long deluded,
Was with kisses sweet concluded;
And Phillida with garlands gay
Was made the Lady of the May.

From THOMAS GREAVES' _Songs of Sundry Kinds_, 1604.

Inconstant Laura makes me death to crave,
For wanting her I must embrace my grave;
A little grave will ease my malady
And set me free from love's fell tyranny.
Intomb me then and show her where I lie,
And say I died through her inconstancy.

From HENRY LICHFILD's _First Set of Madrigals_, 1613.

Injurious hours, whilst any joy doth bless me,
With speedy wings you fly and so release me;
But if some sorrow do oppress my heart,
You creep as if you never meant to part.

From WILLIAM BYRD's _Songs of Sundry Natures_, 1589.

Is Love a boy,--what means he then to strike?
Or is he blind,--why will he be a guide?
Is he a man,--why doth he hurt his like?
Is he a God,--why doth he men deride?
No one of these, but one compact of all:
A wilful boy, a man still dealing blows,
Of purpose blind to lead men to their thrall,
A god that rules unruly--God, he knows.

Boy, pity me that am a child again;
Blind, be no more my guide to make me stray;
Man, use thy might to force away my pain;
God, do me good and lead me to my way;
And if thou beest a power to me unknown,
Power of my life, let here thy grace be shown.

From