April is in my mistress´ face,
And July in her eyes hath place,
Within her bosom is September,
But in der heart a cold December.

Now is the month of Maying,
When merry lads are playing, fa la la...
Each with his bonny lass
Upon the greeny grass. Fa la la...

Fie then, why sit we musing,
Youth´s sweet delight refusing, fa la la...
Say dainty nymps, and speak,
Shall we play barley break? Fa la la...

Shoot false love I care not,
Spend thy shafts and spare not. Fa la la...
I fear not I thy might,
And less I weigh thy spite.
All naked I unarm me,
If thou canst now shoot and harm me,
So lightly I esteem thee,
As now a child I deem thee. Fa la la...

Long thy bow did fear me,
While thy pomp did blear me. Fa la la...
But now I do perceive,
Thy art is to deceive,
And ev´ry simple lover
All thy falsehood can discover,
Then weep love and be sorry
For thou hast lost thy glory. Fa la la...

Sing we and chant it,
While love doth grant it. Fa la la...
Not long youth lasteth,
And old age hasteth,
Now is best leisure
To take our pleasure. Fa la la...

All things invite us
Now to delight us. Fa la la...
Hence care be packing,
No mirth be lacking,
Let spare no treasure
To live in pleasure. Fa la la...

Though Philomela lost her love
Fresh notes she warbleth yet again. Fa la la...
He is a fool that lovers prove
And leaves to sing to live in pain. Fa la la.