For kings have cares that wait upon a crown,

And cares can make the sweetest cares to frown:

Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain'

His flocks are folded; he comes home at night As merry as a king in his delight,

And merrier too:

For kings bethink them what the state require,

Where shepherds, careless, carol by the fire:

Ah then, ah then,

If country love such sweet desires gain,

What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat

His cream and curd, as doth the king his meat, And blither too :

For kings have often fears when they sup,
Where shepherds dread no poison in their cup:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound
As doth the king upon his beds of down,
More sounder too:

For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill,
Where weary shepherds lie and snort their fill:

Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

Thus with his wife he spends the year as blithe As doth the king at every tide or syth,

And blither too :

For kings have wars and broils to take in hand, When shepherds laugh, and love upon the land : Ah then, ah then,

If country love such sweet desires gain,

What lady would not love a shepherd swain ?

[BARNFIELD, who wrote the following piece about the year 1592, is little known in any other way.]

As it fell upon a day,

In the merry month of May,

Sitting in a pleasant shade

Which a grove of myrtles made;

Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,

Trees did grow, and plants did spring; .

Everything did banish moan,

Save the nightingale alone.

She, poor bird, as all forlorn,

Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn;
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
That to hear it was great pity.

Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry;

Teru, teru, by and by;

That, to hear her so complain,
Scarce I could from tears refrain;

For her griefs, so lively shown,
Made me think upon mine own.

Ah! (thought I) thou mourn'st in vain;

None takes pity on thy pain :

Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee,

Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee:

King Pandion he is dead;

All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;

All thy fellow-birds do sing,
Careless of thy sorrowing!

Whilst as fickle Fortune smil'd,

Thou and I were both beguil'd.

Every one that flatters thee

Is no friend in misery.

Words are easy, like the wind;

Faithful friends are hard to find.

Every man will be thy friend

Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend :

But, if store of crowns be scant,

No man will supply thy want.

If that one be prodigal,

Bountiful they will him call;

And with such-like flattering,
'Pity but he were a king.'
If he be addict to vice,
Quickly him they will entice;
But if fortune once do frown,
Then farewell his great renown :
They that fawn'd on him before
Use his company no more.
He that is thy friend indeed,
He will help thee in thy need :
If thou sorrow, he will weep,
If thou wake he cannot sleep:
Thus, of every grief in heart
He with thee doth bear a part.
These are certain signs to know
Faithful friend from flattering foe.