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