Chapter VI

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; Everything did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone: She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd 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; Teru, teru, 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 take pity on thy pain: Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee; Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee. King Pandion, he is dead; All thy friends are lapp'd in lead; All thy fellow-birds do sing, Careless of thy sorrowing. Even so, poor bird, like thee, None alive will pity me. Whilst as fickle fortune smil'd, Thou and I were both beguil'd. 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 commandement: But if fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown: They that fawn'd on him before, Use his company no more. He that is thy frend 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 flattering foe.