IN the merry month of May, <br />In a morn by break of day, <br />Forth I walk'd by the wood-side <br />When as May was in his pride: <br />There I spied all alone <br />Phillida and Coridon. <br />Much ado there was, God wot! <br />He would love and she would not. <br />She said, Never man was true; <br />He said, None was false to you. <br />He said, He had loved her long; <br />She said, Love should have no wrong. <br />Coridon would kiss her then; <br />She said, Maids must kiss no men <br />Till they did for good and all; <br />Then she made the shepherd call <br />All the heavens to witness truth <br />Never loved a truer youth. <br />Thus with many a pretty oath, <br />Yea and nay, and faith and troth, <br />Such as silly shepherds use <br />When they will not Love abuse, <br />Love, which had been long deluded, <br />Was with kisses sweet concluded; <br />And Phillida, with garlands gay, <br />Was made the Lady of the May.<br /><br />Nicholas Breton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/phillida-and-coridon/
