CORIDON'S SONG
In "The Complete Angler"
Oh, the sweet contentment
The countryman doth find.
High trolollie lollie loe,
High trolollie lee,
That quiet contemplation
Possesseth all my mind:
Then care away,
And wend along with me.
For courts are full of flattery,
As hath too oft been tried;
High trolollie lollie loe,
High trolollie lee,
The city full of wantonness,
And both are full of pride:
But oh, the honest countryman
Speaks truly from his heart,
High trolollie lollie loe,
High trolollie lee,
His pride is in his tillage,
His horses and his cart:
Our clothing is good sheepskins,
Gray russet for our wives,
High trolollie lollie loe,
High trolollie lee,
Tis warmth and not gay clothing
That doth prolong our lives:
The plowman, though he labor hard,
Yet on the holiday,
High trolollie lollie loe,
High trolollie lee,
No emperor so merrily
Does pass his time away:
To recompense our tillage
The heavens afford us showers;
High trolollie lollie loe,
High trolollie lee,
And for our sweet refreshments
The earth affords us bowers:
The cuckoo and the nightingale
Full merrily do sing,
High trolollie lollie loe,
High trolollie lee,
And with their pleasant roundelays
Bid welcome to the spring:
This is not half the happiness
The countryman enjoys;
High trolollie lollie loe,
High trolollie lee,
Though others think they have as much
Yet he that says so lies:
Then come away, turn
Countryman with me.
John Chalkhill [fl. 1648]