Love's a lovely lad

Love's a lovely lad,

His bringing up is beauty

Who loves him not is mad;

For I mmust pay him duty,

Now I am sad.

Hail to those sweet eyes

That shine celestial wonder;

From thence do flames arise

Burns my poor heart asunder;

Now it dies.

Cupid sets a crown

On those lovely tresses;

Not a frown

what he so sweetly dresses.

I'll sit down.

Whither shall I go

To escape away from folly?

For now there's love I know,

or else 'tis melancholy.

Yonder lies the snow

But my poor heart can't melt it;

Love shoots from his bow,

And my poor heart hath felt it.

Now I am sad.

Love's a lovely lad.