He sigh'd in his singing, and after each grone,
Come willow, &c.
I am dead to all pleasure, my true-love is gone;
O willow, &c.10
Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garlànd.
My love she is turned; untrue she doth prove:
O willow, &c.
She renders me nothing but hate for my love.
O willow, &c.15
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.
O pitty me, (cried he) ye lovers, each one;
O willow, &c.
Her heart's hard as marble; she rues not my mone.
O willow, &c.20
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.
The cold streams ran by him, his eyes wept apace;
O willow, &c.
The salt tears fell from him, which drowned his face:
O willow, &c.25
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.
The mute birds sate by him, made tame by his mones:
O willow, &c.
The salt tears fell from him, which softened the stones.
O willow, &c.30
Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garlànd!
Let nobody blame me, her scornes I do prove;
O willow, &c.
She was borne to be faire; I, to die for her love.
O willow, &c.35
Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garlànd.
O that beauty should harbour a heart that's so hard!
Sing willow, &c.
My true love rejecting without all regard.
O willow, &c.40
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.
Let love no more boast him in palace, or bower;
O willow, &c.
For women are trothles,[855] and flote[856] in an houre.
O willow, &c.45
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.
But what helps complaining? In vaine I complaine:
O willow, &c.
I must patiently suffer her scorne and disdaine.
O willow, &c.50
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.
Come, all you forsaken, and sit down by me,
O willow, &c.
He that 'plaines of his false love, mine's falser than she.
O willow, &c.55
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.