Three Works for Male Chorus

O cool is the valley now 
  And there, love, will we go 
For many a choir is singing now 
  Where Love did sometime go. 

And hear you not the thrushes calling, 
  Calling us away? 
O cool and pleasant is the valley 
  And there, love, will we stay.

A pretty game, my girl, 
To play with me so long; 
Until this other lover 
Comes dancing to thy song, 
And my affair is over. 

But love, though well adored, 
Is not my only note : 
So let thy false love-prattle 
Be in another man's throat 
That weaker man's death-rattle. 

Ah, such as thou, at last, 
Wilt take a false man's hand : 
Think kindly then of me, 
When thou'rt forsaken, and 
The shame sits on thy knee. 

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And [stare]1 as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time, to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like stars at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.