Chorus. But never Humour yet was true,
But that which only pleaseth you!
Mirth, then, is drowned in Sorrow's brim.
No, no, fool! The light things swim;
Heavy things sink to the deep!
Chorus. But never Humour yet was true,
But that which only pleaseth you!
O, in sorrow, all things sleep!
In her presence, all things smile;
Humour, frolic then awhile!
Chorus. But never Humour yet was true,
But that which only pleaseth you!
[Then follows a piece of instrumental music, entitled
Lowland's Adieu for Master Oliver Cromwell.]