Though Amaryllis dance in green,
Like Fairy Queen,
And sing full clear,
Corinna can, with smiling cheer;
Yet since their eyes make heart so sore;
Heigh-ho, chill love no more!

My sheep are lost for want of food, 
And I so wood
That all th day
I sit and watch a herds-maid gay,
Who laughs to see me sigh so sore;
Heigh-ho, chill love, no more!

Her loving looks, her beauty bright,
Is such delight,
That all in vain
I love to like and lose my gain,
For her that thanks me not therefor;
Heigh-ho, chill love, no more!

Ah, wanton eyes, my friendly foes,
And cause of woes,
Your sweet desire
Breeds flames of ice and freeze in fire!
Ye scorn to see me weep so sore;
Heigh-ho, chill love, no more!

Love ye who list, I force him not!
Sith, Got it wot,
The more I wail,
The less my sighs and tears prevail!
What shall I do, but say therefore;
Heigh-ho, chill love, no more!