Oh, if I be a lady fair, I’ll weep for no lord’s frown, And if my lord should ride away, I’ll put aside my silk array And take a russet gown. I’ll wear a gown of russet brown, And sleep on the grassy sward, And when I meet a shepherd swain, If he should sigh, I’ll sigh again, And choose him for my lord. I’ll choose a shepherd for my lord, Though I be a lady fair, And when the woods are golden brown, Of yellow leaves I’ll weave a crown, And bind his golden hair. Then my false lord shall cry and weep, And call his lady fair, But though for love his heart should bleed, His sighs and tears I will not heed, Nor hearken to his prayer. THE SHEPHERD AND THE LADY. ISOBEL. Shepherd, if thou wouldst learn to woo a maid In Love’s own way, Follow young Cupid to the hawthorn shade Some day in May, And bid him tell thee true What way were best to woo; What a poor swain should do When maids say nay. HUBERT. Ah! could I find the bower where Love doth dwell Beneath the May, And could I plead to him, I know full well What Love would say. For he would bid me sigh, And weep, and moan and cry, And he would bid me die, For that’s Love’s way. ISOBEL. Hast thou forgotten how in shepherd’s guise One day in May, Love taught a cruel maid with laughing eyes To feel Love’s sway, And when she thought to scorn This lover lowly born Love did not weep or mourn, But laughed and turned away, And singing when she sighed, Love wept not when she cried He cared not if she died For that’s Love’s way! BOTH. O Love that came but yester eve, If thou wilt go before to-morrow, Then prithee go, but do not leave My saddened heart to die of sorrow. If thou wilt hide Love’s laughing eyes, If we must lose Love’s magic spell, Then take the burthen of our sighs, And we will say Farewell! Farewell! THE SHEPHERD’S SONG. Ah wherefore should I try to sing Of Love that’s dead? Of Love that came before the Spring And ere Spring came had fled. ’Tis vain to seek in winter snows The fallen petals of the rose ’Tis vain to ask the year to bring The Love that went before the Spring. Our little world was fair to see Ere Love had come, Of earth and sky and flower and tree I sang while Love was dumb. But now the strings have all one tone, Love claims all beauty for his own. In vain! in vain! I can but sing The Love that went before the Spring.