Upon a hill the bonny boy
  Sweet Thyrsis sweetly played,
And called his lambs their master’s joy,
  And more he would have said;
But love that gives the lover wings
Withdrew his mind from other things.

His pipe and he could not agree,
  For Milla was his note;
The silly pipe could never get
  This lovely name by rote:
With that they both fell in a sound,
He fell a-sleep, his pipe to ground.