"Ah Robin,
Jolly Robin,
Tell me how thy leman doth?
And thou shalt know of mine.'

"My lady is unkind, perdie!'
"Alack, why is she so!
"She loveth another better than me,
And yet she will say, no.'

"I find no such doubleness:
I find women true.
My lady loveth me doubtless,
And will change for no new.'

"Thou art happy while that doth last,
But I say as I find,
That woman's love is but a blast
And turneth like the wind.'

"If that be true yet as thou sayest
That women turn their heart,
Then speak better of them thou mayest
In hope to have thy part.'

Such folks shall take no harm by love
That can abide their turn;
But I, alas, can no way prove
In love but lack and mourn.

"But if thou wilt avoid thy harm,
Learn this lesson of me:
At others' fires thyself to warm,
And let them warm with thee.'