Full Lyrics
A shepherd in a glade
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, fie, fie on love, it is a foolish thing.’”
“My heart, where have you laid?
O cruel maid!
To kill where 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, it 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, fie, fie on love, it is a foolish thing.’”
