All in a garden green

1. All in a garden green,
 where late I laid me down
Upon a bank of camomīle*,
Where I saw upon a stile,
Sitting, a countrȳ clown,
Holding within his arms
 a comelȳ countrȳ maid;
Courting her with all his skill,
Wȯrking her unto his will,
Thus to her he sa͞id:

‘Kiss me in kindness,
 sweet heart’, quoth he.
‘Sir, not for twentȳ
 good pounds’, quoth she.
He sa͞id, ‘Say not so.’
She sa͞id, ‘Let me go.’
‘Stay, sweet heart’, quoth he.
‘Fie! how you ruffle me.’
‘What a life is this.’

‘Lord, how I love thee,
 sweet heart’, quoth she.
 .  .  .  . 
 .  .  .  . 
‘Fie! for shame, I say:
Take your hand away.’
‘Sweet,’ quoth he, ‘be still;
Though against thy will,
I must hāve a kiss.’

2. ‘Sweet, I’ll forsake my hold
 if thou will tarrȳ still;
And here I make a vow to thee
Thou shalt not be touched, for me,
More than thy good will.’
‘Hands off, for shame!’ she sa͞id,
 ‘in faith, you are to blame.
If anybodȳ should us see,
What a blemish would it be
To my honest name.’

‘Sit but a little
 by me on this stile;
And I will bring thee
 on thy way a mile.’
There she sat her down
By this lovelȳ clown.
‘Sweet!’ quoth he,
‘Wilt thou wed with me?’
‘No! good faith, not I!’

‘Let me but lay
 my hand upon thy knee.’
‘Fie!’ quoth the bonnȳ lass,
 ‘That may not be.’
‘Sweet, come kiss me then.’
‘Maids must kiss no men:
Fie! for shame I say.’
‘If you say me “nay”,
Then for love I die.’

3. ‘Lord, how you hurt my hand;
 for God’s sake, let me go.
By my faith and my truth,
I did little think, forsooth!
You would have sėrved me so.’
‘Grant me my suit;’ quoth he,
 ‘and then I’ll let thy go:
I pray thee, do me not deny,
Gentle sweating, but say I!’
Still she answėrèd, ‘No!’

‘Let me but lay
 my hand upon thy knee.’
‘No! let me go,
 I must be gone’, quoth she.
‘If my mother knew
That I were with you,
Woe should be my part.’
‘Stay!’ quoth he, ‘sweet heart!
She shall never know.’

Then did he carrȳ her
 behind a tree.
What they did there
 is unknown to me;
But I heard her say
When she came away,
Making low curtse͞y,
‘Ōnce again’, quoth she,
‘Kiss me ere you go.’

4. Then they went hand in hand,
 a furlong and more;
Where, as they parted lovinglȳ,
She put her finger in the eye,
And did weep full sore.
Sighing, ‘Sweet heart,’ she sa͞id,
 ‘since now you have me won
To yield and let you hāve your will,
If you would not love me still,
I were quite undone.’

‘Sweet!’ then quoth he,
 ‘I pray thee be content.’
‘If this be known,’ quoth she,
 ‘I am sure I shall be shent.’
‘Hie thee home,’ quoth he,
‘For I do swear to thee,
Long it shall not be
Ere I come to thee
To hear what you wilt say.’

Lore, how her colour
 went and came for shame.
As other maids
 having done the same.
Though they make a show,
And say often ‘No!’
They will take it, though
‖: they cry, ‘fie away!’ :‖