The Woodman's Walk

Through a fair forest as I went
Upon a summer's day,
I met a woodman quaint and gent,
Yet in a' strange array.
I marvell'd much at his disguise,
Whom I did know so well;
But thus in terms both grave and wise,
His mind he 'gan to tell.
Friend, muse not at this fond array.

But list awhile to me;
For it hath holp me to survey
What I shall show to thee.
Long lived I in this forest fair,
Till, weary of my weal.
Abroad in walks I would repair.
As now I will reveal.
My first day's walk was to the court.

Where beauty fed mine eyes;
Yet found I that the courtly sport
Did mask in sly disguise.
For falsehood sat in fairest looks.
And friend to friend was coy;
Court favour fill'd but empty books.
And there I found no joy.
Desert went naked in the cold.

When crouching craft was fed;
Sweet words were cheaply bought and sold,
But none that stood in stead,
Wit was employ'd for each man's own,
Plain meaning came too short;
All these devices seen and known,
Made me forsake the court.
Unto the city next I went,
In hope of better hap;
Where liberally I launch'd and spent,'
As set on fortune's lap.
The little stock I had in store
Methought would ne'er be done;
Friends flock'd about me more and more,
As quickly lost as won.
For when I spent then they were kind,
But when my purse did fail.
The foremost man -came last behind;
Thus love with wealth doth quail.
Once more for footing yet I strove,
Although the world did frown.
But they before that held me up,
Together trod me down.
And lest once more I should arise.

They sought my quite decay;
Then got I into this disguise.
And thence I stole away.
And in my mind, methought, I said,
Lord bless me from the city!
Where simpleness is thus betray'd.
And no remorse or pity.
Yet would I not give over so,
But once more try my fate.
And to the country then I go.

To live in quiet state.
There did appear no subtle shows.
But yea and nay went smoothly;
But, Lord, how country folks can glose,
When they speak most soothly!
More craft was in a button'd cap,
And in an' old wives' rail.
Than in my life it was my hap
To see on down or dale.
There was no open forgery,
But underhanded gleaning;
Which they call country policy,
But hath a worser meaning.
Some good bold face bears out the wrong,
Because he gains thereby;
The poor man's back is crack'd ere long.

Yet there he lets him lie;
And no degree among them all
But had such close intending:
That I upon my knees did fall,
And pray'd for their amending.
Back to the woods I got again,
In mind perplexed sore,
Where I found ease of all this pain,
And mean to stray no more.
There city, court, nor country too,
Can any way annoy me;
But as a woodman ought to do,
I freely may employ me.
There live I quietly alone,
And none to trip my talk:
Wherefore when I am dead and gone,
Think on the woodman's walk.