What delight can they enjoy

What delight can they enjoy

Whose hearts are not their own,

But are gone abroad, astray,

And to others' bosoms flown?

Silly comforts, silly joy,

Which fall and rise as others move,

Who seldom use to turn our way.

And therefore Chloris will not love,

For well I see

How false men be,

And they must pine that lovers prove.