1.
I am a young and harmless maid,
And some are pleased to call me fair;
No man hath yet in ambush laid
To catch me, but I broke his snare,
And though they style me proud and coy,
‖: Yet in my freedom is my joy. :‖
2.
Yet could I quickly be in love,
If men were not so falsely wise
With sighs and tears that daily prove
To blind our tender hearts and eyes,
Yet rash belief shall ne’er destroy
‖: My freedom, which is all my joy. :‖
3.
We are accursed to be so fair,
And men for their abusing wit;
When we are wise, then they despair,
And count our passion but a fit:
Then for a while I will be coy,
‖: Since freedom is a woman’s joy. :‖
4.
Yet I do hope this safe delay
Shall make me live, and never mourn,
And though my beauty pass away,
I’ll choose a husband for my turn,
And he shall be a lover true,
‖: Then man, I am as wise as you. :‖