Next, When I Cast Mine Eyes And

I Sing Of Brooks, Of Blossoms, Birds, And Bowers: Of April, May, Or June, And July Flowers. I Sing Of Maypoles, Hock-carts, Wassails, Wakes, Of Bridegrooms, Brides, And Of The Bridal Cakes.

Gather Ye Rosebuds, While Ye May.

Love Is Maintain'd By Wealth: When All Is Spent, Adversity Then Breeds The Discontent.

Feed Him Ye Must, Whose Food Fills You. And That This Pleasure Is Like Raine, Not Sent Ye For To Drowne Your Paine, But For To Make It Spring Againe.

Necessity Makes Dastards Valiant Men.