In a green meadow

In a green meadow,

A river running by,

I heard a pretty maiden

Lament, wail and cry.

The tears fell from her eyes

As clear as any pearls,

And then I much lamented

The mourning of this girl.

She sighed and she sobbed

And to herself she said,

"Alack. what luck had I to live

So long and die a maid.

Now in this world

No charity is known.

And young men are hard-hearted,

Which makes me lie alone.

The day and time had been,

Had I not been so nice,

I might have enjoyed my true love,

If I had been wise.

But toyishness and coyishness

And peevishness such store

Hath brought me to this pensiveness

And maiden, maiden more.

Virginity is a burden

That few or none can carry,

And that's the reason sure

That our mothers all did marry.

But since it is a pastime

That hath been used before.

If bashfulness do wrong me,

I will deny no more.

For be it light or be it dark

Or do he look or wink,

He cannot miss the mark

If he hath the wit to think.

For time lost and time past

Cannot be called again;

Therefore, maidens, all make haste

Lest with me you complain."