Henry VIII, King of England

The time of youth is to be spent But vice in it should be forfent. Pastimes there be, I nought truly, Which one may use and vice deny. And they be pleasant to God and man, Those should we covet, win who can, As feats of arms and such other Whereby activeness one may utter. Comparisons in them may lawfully be set, For thereby courage is surely out fet. Virtue it is then youth for to spend In good disports which it doth fend.

Though that men do call it dotage, Who loveth not wanteth courage; And whosoever may love get, From Venus sure he must it fet Or else from her which is her heir, And she to him must seem most fair. With eye and mind doth both agree. There is no boot: there must it be. The eye doth look and represent, But mind afformeth with full consent. Thus am I fixed without grudge: Mine eye with heart doth me so judge. Love maintaineth all noble courage. Who love disdaineth is all of the village: Such lovers—though they take pain— It were pity they should obtain, For often times where they do sue They hinder lovers that would be true. For whoso loveth should love but once. Change whoso will, I will be none.

Though some saith that youth ruleth me, I trust in age to tarry. God and my right and my duty, From them I shall never vary, Though some say that youth ruleth me. I pray you all that aged be, How well did ye your youth carry? I think some worse, of each degree: Therein a wager lay dare I, Though some saith that youth ruleth me. Pastimes of youth sometime among, None can say but necessary. I hurt no man, I do no wrong, I love true where I did marry, Though some saith that youth ruleth me. Then soon discuss that hence we must. Pray we to God and Saint Mary That all amend, and here an end, Thus saith the king, the eighth Harry, Though some saith that youth ruleth me.

Pastime with good company I love and shall unto I die. Grudge whoso will, but none deny, So God be pleased, this live will I. For my pastance Hunt, sing, and dance. My heart is set All godely sport To my comfort. Who shall me let? Youth will have needs daliance, Of good or ill some pastance. Company me thinketh then best All thoftes and fantasies to digest. For idleness Is chief mistress Of vices all. Than who can say But “pass the day” Is best of all? Company with honesty Is virtue, and vice to flee. Company is good or ill But every man hath his free will. The best ensue, The worst eschew, My mind shall be. Virtue to use, Vice to refuse, I shall use me.

Lusty Youth should us ensue, His merry heart shall sure all rue. For whatsoever they do him tell, It is not for him, we know it well. For they would have him his Liberty refrain And all merry company for to disdain, But I will not so whatsoever they say, But follow his mind in all that we may. How should Youth himself best use But all disdainers for to refuse? Youth has, as chief assurance, Honest Mirth with Virtue's pastance. For in them consisteth great honour, Though that disdainers would therein put error, For they do sue to get them grace All only riches to purchase. With Good Order, Counsel, and Equity, Good Lord, grant us our mansion to be! For without their good guidance Youth should fall in great mischance. For Youth is frail and prompt to do, As well vices as virtues to ensue. Wherefore by these he must be guided And Virtue's pastance must be therein used. Now unto God this prayer we make, That this rude play may well be take, And that we may our faults amend, An bliss obtain at our last end.

If love now reigned as it hath been And were rewarded as it hath sin, Noble men then would sure ensearch All ways whereby they might it reach, But envy reigneth with such disdain And causeth lovers outwardly to refrain, Which puts them to more and more Inwardly most grievous and sore. The fault in whom I cannot set, But let them tell which love doth get— To lovers I put now sure this case: Which of their loves doth get them grace? And unto them which doth it know Better than do I, I think it so.

Green groweth the holly, So doth the ivy. Though winter blasts blow never so high, Green groweth the holly. As the holly groweth green And never changeth hue, So I am, ever hath been, Unto my lady true. As the holly groweth green With ivy all alone When flowers cannot be seen And greenwood leaves be gone, Now unto my lady Promise to her I make, From all other only To her I me betake. Adieu, mine own lady, Adieu, my special Who hath my heart truly Be sure, and ever shall.