Letras
Orpheus with his lute made trees
And mountain tops that freeze
Bow themselves when he did sing
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring
Everything that heard him play
Even the billows of the sea
Hung their heads and then lay by
In sweet music is such art
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep or hearing die
Pastime with good company
I love and shall until I die
Grudge who will but none deny
So God be pleased so live will I
For my pastance, hunt, sing and dance
My heart is set to my comfort
All goodly sport who shall me let
Youth must have some dalliance
Of good or ill some pastance
Company methinks is best
All thoughts and fancies to digest
For idleness is chief mistress
Of vices all then who can say
But mirth and play is best of all
Company with honesty
Is virtue vices to flee
Company is good and ill
But every man hath his free will
The best ensue the worst eschew
My mind shall be virtue to use
Vice to refuse thus shall I use me