A shepherd in a shade his plaining made Of love and lover's wrong Unto the fairest lass that trod on grass, And thus began his song: "Since Love and Fortune will, I honour still Your fair and lovely eye: What conquest will it be, sweet Nymph, for thee If I for sorrow die? Restore, restore my heart again Which love by thy sweet looks hath slain, Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing 'Fie on love! it is a foolish thing.' "My heart where have you laid? O cruel maid, To kill when you might save! Why have ye cast it forth as nothing worth, Without a tomb or grave? O let it be entombed and lie In your sweet mind and memory, Lest I resound on every warbling string 'Fie, fie on love! that is a foolish thing.' Restore, restore my heart again Which love by thy sweet looks hath slain, Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing 'Fie on love! it is a foolish thing.'" From THOMAS WEELKES' _Madrigals of Six Parts_, 1600. A Sparrow-Hawk proud did hold in wicked jail Music's sweet chorister, the nightingale, To whom with sighs she said: "O set me free! And in my song I'll praise no bird but thee." The hawk replied, "I will not lose my diet To let a thousand such enjoy their quiet." From ROBERT JONES' _First Book of Airs_, 1601. A woman's looks Are barbed hooks, That catch by art The strongest heart When yet they spend no breath; But let them speak, And sighing break Forth into tears, Their words are spears That wound our souls to death. The rarest wit Is made forget, And like a child Is oft beguiled With love's sweet-seeming bait; Love with his rod So like a God Commands the mind; We cannot find, Fair shows hide foul deceit. Time, that all things In order brings, Hath taught me how To be more slow In giving faith to speech, Since women's words No truth affords, And when they kiss They think by this Us men to over-reach. From THOMAS MORLEY's _First Book of Ballets to Five Voices_, 1595. About the maypole new, with glee and merriment, While as the bagpipe tooted it, Thyrsis and Chloris fine together footed it: And to the joyous instrument Still they went to and fro, and finely flaunted it, And then both met again and thus they chaunted it. Fa la!