As it fell upon a day In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made, Beasts did leap and birds did sing, Trees did grow and plants did spring;Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone:

She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Leaned her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity:

'Fie, fie, fie', now would she cry;

'Tereu, Tereu!' by and by;

That to hear her so complain, Scarce I could from tears refrain;For her griefs so lively shown Made me think upon mine own.

Ah, thought I, thou mourn'st in vain!

None takes pity on thy pain:

Senseless trees they cannot hear thee;

Ruthless beasts they will not cheer thee:

King Pandion he is dead;

All thy friends are lapped in lead;

All thy fellow birds do sing, Careless of thy sorrowing.

Whilst as fickle Fortune smiled, Thou and I were both beguiled.

Every one that flatters thee Is no friend in misery.

Words are easy, like the wind;

Faithful friends are hard to find:

Every man will be thy friend Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;But if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want.

If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call, And with such-like flattering, 'Pity but he were a king';If he be addict to vice, Quickly him they will entice;If to women he be bent, They have at commandment.

But if Fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown;They that fawned on him before Use his company no more.

He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need:

If thou sorrow, he will weep;

If thou wake, he cannot sleep;

Thus of every grief in heart He with thee doth bear a part.

These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flatt'ring foe.

-THE END-

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