Should my heart be griev'd or pin'd 'Cause I see a woman kind? Or a well-disposed nature Joined with a lovely feature? Be she meeker, kinder than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be? Shall a woman's virtues move Me to perish for her love? Or her well-deservings, known, Make me quite forget my own? Be she with that goodness blest Which may gain her name of best, If she be not such to me, What care I how good she be? 'Cause her fortune seems too high, Shall I play the fool and die? Those that bear a noble mind, Where they want of riches find Think what with them they would do That without them dare to woo; And unless that mind I see, What care I how great she be? Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair; If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve: If she slight me when I woo, I can scorn and let her go; For if she be not for me, What care I for whom she be? I LOVED A LASS, A FAIR ONE I LOV'D a lass, a fair one, As fair as e'er was seen; She was indeed a rare one, Another Sheba Queen. But, fool as then I was, I thought she lov'd me too: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo. Her hair like gold did glister, Each eye was like a star, She did surpass her sister, Which pass'd all others far; She would me honey call, She'd, oh--she'd kiss me too: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo. Many a merry meeting My love and I have had; She was my only sweeting, She made my heart full glad; The tears stood in her eyes, Like to the morning dew: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo. Her cheeks were like the cherry, Her skin as white as snow; When she was blythe and merry, She angel-like did show; Her waist exceeding small, The fives did fit her shoe: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo. In summer time or winter She had her heart's desire; I still did scorn to stint her From sugar, sack, or fire; The world went round about, No cares we ever knew: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo. To maidens' vows and swearing Henceforth no credit give; You may give them the hearing, But never them believe; They are as false as fair, Unconstant, frail, untrue: For mine, alas! hath left me, Falero, lero, loo. CHRISTMAS So now is come our joyfullest part; Let every man be jolly; Each room with ivy-leaves is dressed, And every post with holly. Though some churls at our mirth repine, Round your foreheads garlands twine, Drown sorrow in a cup of wine, And let us all be merry! Now all our neighbours' chimneys smoke, And Christmas-blocks are burning; Their ovens they with baked meat choke, And all their spits are turning. Without the door let sorrow lie; And, if for cold it hap to die, We'll bury it in a Christmas pie And evermore be merry!