Fain would I love, but that I fear

Fain would I love, but that I fear

I quickly should the willow wear;

Fain would I marry, but men say

When love is tied, he will away.

Then tell me, love, what shall I do

To cure these fears whene'er I woo?

The fair one, she's a mark to all,

The brown each one doth lovely call,

The black's a pearl in fair men's eyes,

The rest will stoop at any prize.

Then tell me, love, what shall I do

To cure these fears whene'er I woo?