My Phillida, adieu love!
For evermore farewel!
Ay me! I've lost my true love,
And thus I ring her knell,
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, 5
My Phillida is dead!
I'll stick a branch of willow
At my fair Phillis' head.
For my fair Phillida
Our bridal bed was made: 10
But 'stead of silkes so gay,
She in her shroud is laid.
Ding, &c.
Her corpse shall be attended
By maides in fair array,
Till the obsequies are ended, 15
And she is wrapt in clay.
Ding, &c.
Her herse it shall be carried
By youths, that do excell;
And when that she is buried,
I thus will ring her knell, 20
Ding, &c.
A garland shall be framed
By art and natures skill,
Of sundry-colour'd flowers,
In token of good-will[742]:
Ding, &c.
And sundry-colour'd ribbands 25
On it I will bestow;
But chiefly black and yellowe[743]:
With her to grave shall go.
Ding, &c.
I'll decke her tomb with flowers,
The rarest ever seen, 30
And with my tears, as showers,
I'll keepe them fresh and green.
Ding, &c.
Instead of fairest colours,
Set forth with curious art[744],
Ding, &c.
Her image shall be painted 35
On my distressed heart.