Like to the falling of the star
Love in thy youth, fair maid, be wise
Love guides the roses of thy lips
Love not me for comely grace
Maidens kilt your skirts and go
My heart is like a singing bird
My little pretty one
My Phyllis hath the morning sun
My true love hath my heart and I have his
Name the leaves on all the trees
Night and the down by the sea
No more blind god! for see, my heart
No show of bolts and bars
Now fie on foolish love, it not befits
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white
O fairest of the rural maids!
O mark yon Rose-tree! When the West
O, Mistress mine, where are you roaming
O, to be in England
Oh thou that from the green vales of the West
Oh, what a plague is love!
On a starr'd night. Prince Lucifer uprose
Once did my thoughts both ebb and flow
Out upon it, I have loved
Over the mountains