Advice to a Friend in Love

I. Holst

Prithee, Billy,

Ben't so silly

Thus to waste thy days in grief;

You say Betty

Will not let you,

But can sorrow give relief?

Leave repining,

Cease your whining,

Pox on torment, grief and woe;

If she's tender

She'll surrender,

If she's tough — e'en let her go.