What then is love sings Corydon
Since Phyllida is grown so coy
A flattering glass to gaze upon
A busy jest a serious toy
A flower still budding never blown
A scanty dearth in fullest store
Yielding least fruit where most is sown
My daily note shall be therefore
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Tis like a morning dewy rose
Spread fairly to the sun's arise
But when his beams he doth disclose
That which then flourish'd quickly dies
It is a seld fed dying hope
A promised bliss a salveless sore
An aimless mark and erring scope
My daily note shall be therefore
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Tis like a lamp shining to all
Whilst in itself it doth decay
It seems to free whom it doth thrall
And lead our pathless thoughts astray
It is the spring of wintered hearts
Parched by the summer's heat before
Faint hope to kindly warmth converts
My daily note shall be therefore
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
Heigh ho heigh ho chil love no more
