Nicholas Breton (1545–1626)

IN the merry month of May,

In a morn by break of day

Forth I walk’d by the woodside

Whenas May was in his pride;

There I spyed all alone,

Phyllida and Corydon.

Much ado there was, God wot!

He would love and she would not.

She said, never man was true;

He said, none was false to you.

He said, he had loved her long;

She said, Love should have no wrong.

Corydon would kiss her then;

She said, maids must kiss no men

Till they did for good and all;

Then she made the shepherd call

All the heavens to witness truth

Never loved a truer youth.

Thus with many a pretty oath,

Yea and nay, and faith and troth,

Such as silly shepherds use

When they will not Love abuse,

Love, which had been long deluded,

Was with kisses sweet concluded;

And Phyllida, with garlands gay,

Was made the Lady of the May.