Heigh, ho! sing heigh, ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. Then heigh, ho, the holly! WHERE the bee sucks, there suck 1; In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry, On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily: Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. LAWN, as white as driven snow; Perfume for a lady's chamber: Pins and poking-sticks of steel, What maids lack from head to heel: Come, buy of me, come; come buy, come buy; Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry. |