John Ireland - An Aside

These women all
Both great and small
Are wavering to and fro
Now here, now there
Now everywhere;
But I will not say so

So they love to range
Their minds doth change
And make their friend their foe;
As lovers true
Each day they choose new;
But I will not say so

They laugh, they smile
They do beguile
As dice that men doth throw
Who useth them much
Shall never be rich;
But I will not say so

Some hot, some cold
There is no hold
But as the wind doth blow;
When all is done
They change like the moon;
But I will not say so
So thus one and other
Taketh after their mother
As cock by kind doth crow
My song is ended
The best may be amended;
But I will not say so