IN the merry month of May, 
In a morn by break of day, 
Forth I walk'd by the wood-side 
When as May was in his pride: 
There I spied all alone 
Phillida and Coridon. 
Much ado there was, God wot! 
He would love and she would not. 
She said, Never man was true; 
He said, None was false to you. 
He said, He had loved her long; 
She said, Love should have no wrong. 
Coridon would kiss her then; 
She said, Maids must kiss no men 
Till they did for good and all; 
Then she made the shepherd call 
All the heavens to witness truth 
Never loved a truer youth. 
Thus with many a pretty oath, 
Yea and nay, and faith and troth, 
Such as silly shepherds use 
When they will not Love abuse, 
Love, which had been long deluded, 
Was with kisses sweet concluded; 
And Phillida, with garlands gay, 
Was made the Lady of the May.