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Fint a Crum of Thee She Faws.
REturn hameward, my heart again,
and bide where thou was wont to be;
Thou art a fool to suffer pain.
For love of one that loves not thee:
My heart let be sic fantalie,
Love only where thou hast good cause
Since scorn and syking ne'er agree,
The fint a crum of thee she faws.
To what effect should thou be thrall?
Be happy in thy ain free will;
My heart be never bestial,
But ken wha does thee good or ill:
At hame with me then tarry still,
And see wha best can play thy paws,
And let the filly fling her fill,
For fint a crum of thee she faws.
Though she be fair, I will not fenzie,
She's of a kind with mony mae;
⟨For⟩ why, they are a felon menzie,
That seemeth good and are not fae:
My heart, take neither strut not wae,
For Meg, for Margery, or Mause,
But be thou blythe, and let her gae,
For fint a crum of thee she faws.
Remember how that Media,
wild for a sight of Jason yield;
Remember how young Cressida
Left Troilus for Diomede:
