My love is fair, my love is gay,
As fresh as are the flowers in May;
And of my love the roundelay,
My merry, merry roundelay,
Concludes with Cupid’s curse:
They that do change old love for new,
Pray gods they change for worse!
My love can pipe, my love can sing,
My love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring