Lyrics
I must go walk the woods so wild,
and wander here and there,
in dred and dedly fere,
for where I trusted,I am begild,
and all for one.
Thus am I banisshed from thy blis
by craft and false pretens,
fautles without offens,
as of return no certen is,
and all for fere of one.
The ronning stremes shall be my drinke,
acorns schall be my fode,
nothing may do me good,
but when of your bewty I do think,
and all for love of one.