Some youths will now a mumming go, Some others play at Roland-bo,

And twenty other game boys mo,

Because they will be merry.

Then, wherefore, in these merry days,
Should we, I pray, be duller?
No, let us sing some roundelays,
To make our mirth the fuller:
And while we thus inspired sing,
Let all the streets with echoes ring;
Woods and hills, and everything,

Bear witness we are merry.

THE SHEPHERD'S RESOLUTION.

GEORGE WITHER.

SHALL I, wasting in despaire,

Dye, because a woman's faire?

Or make pale my cheeks with care 'Cause another's rosie are?.

Be she fairer than the day,

Or the flow'ry meads in May ;

If she be not so to me,

What care I how faire she be?

Shall my foolish heart be pined
'Cause I see a woman kind?
Or a well-disposed nature
Joined with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
The turtle-dove or pelican:

If she be not so to me,

What care I how kinde she be!

Shall a woman's virtue move

Me to perish for her love?

Or her well-deservings knowne,

Make me quite forget mine owne?

Some youths will now a mumming go,

Some others play at Roland-bo,

And twenty other game boys mo,

Because they will be merry.

Then, wherefore, in these merry days,
Should we, I pray, be duller?
No, let us sing some roundelays,
To make our mirth the fuller:
And while we thus inspired sing,
Let all the streets with echoes ring;
Woods and hills, and everything,

Bear witness we are merry.

THE SHEPHERD'S RESOLUTION.

GEORGE WITHER.

SHALL I, wasting in despaire,
Dye, because a woman's faire ?

Or make pale my cheeks with care

'Cause another's rosie are?

Be she fairer than the day,

Or the flow'ry meads in May;
If she be not so to me,
What care I how faire she be?

Shall my foolish heart be pined
'Cause I see a woman kind?
Or a well-disposed nature
Joined with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
The turtle-dove or pelican:

If she be not so to me,

What care I how kinde she be?

Shall a woman's virtue move

Me to perish for her love?

Or her well-deservings knowne,

Make me quite forget mine owne?

Be she with that goodnesse blest,

Which may merit name of best ;
If she be not such to me,

What care I how good she be?

'Cause her fortune seems too high,

Shall I play the foole and dye?

Those that beare a noble minde,

Where they want of riches finde,

Thinke what with them they would doe,

That without them dare to wooe;

And unlesse that minde I see,

What care I how great she be?

Great, or good, or kinde, or faire,
I will ne'er the more despaire ;
If she love me, this beleeve;
I will dye ere she shall grieve,
If she slight me when I wooe,
I can scorn and let her goe:
If she be not fit for me,

What care I for whom she be?