A Nymph's Disdain of Love

"Hey, down a down!" did Dian sing,
Amongst her virgins sitting;
" Than love there is no vainer thing,
For maidens most unfitting."
And so think I, with a down, down, derry.

When women knew no woe.
But lived themselves to please,
Men's feigning guiles they did not know.
The ground of their disease.
Unborn was false suspect,
No thought of jealousy;
From wanton toys and fond affect.

The virgin's life was free.
" Hey, down, a down! " did Dian sing, &c.
At length men used charms,
To which what maids gave ear.
Embracing gladly endless harms.

Anon enthrall were.
Thus women welcomed woe,
Disguised in name of love,
A jealous hell, a painted show:
So shall they find that prove.
" Hey, down, a down I " did Dian sing.

Amongst her virgins sitting;
" Than love there is no vainer thing.
For maidens most unfitting."
And so think I, with a down, down, derry.