A pastoral lyric of uncertain authorship, signed "H. C.": "If every Maide were like to me, | Heigh hoe hard of hart: | Both love and lovers scorn'd should be, | Scorners shall be sure of smart."
W. W. Greg: "A charming song between Phillis and Amaryllis, the counterpart and imitation of Spenser's 'Bonibell' ballad" Pastoral Poetry and Pastoral Drama (1906) 125.
Herbert E. Cory: "Bodenham's delightful anthology England's Helicon (1614) contains a breezy little pastoral lyric by Henry Constable, which doubtless belongs to this period. it is an uncommonly good imitation of the gay contest of Willy and Perigot in August" "Spenserian Pastoral" PMLA 25 (1910) 251.
Censura Literaria: "Mr. Steevens gave £5. 10s. for his 4to. copy of England's Helicon, at Major Pearson's sale; and Dr. Farmer's 8vo. copy sold for £7. 10s. to Mr. George Ellis" 1 (1805) 422.
Henry Hallam: "A change seems to have come over the spirit of English poetry soon after 1580. Sidney, Raleigh, Lodge, Breton, Marlowe, Greene, Watson, are the chief contributors to a collection called England's Helicon, published in 1600, and comprising many of the fugitive pieces of the last twenty years. Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, in 1602, is a miscellany of the same class. A few other collections are known to have existed, but are still more scarce than these. England's Helicon by far the most important, has been reprinted in the same volume of the British Bibliographer as the Paradise of Dainty Devices. In this juxtaposition, the difference of their tone is very perceptible. Love occupies by far the chief portion of the latter miscellany; and love no longer pining and melancholy, but sportive and boastful. Every one is familiar with the beautiful song of Marlowe, 'Come live with me, and be my love;' and with the hardly less beautiful answer ascribed to Raleigh. Lodge has ten pieces in this collection, and Breton eight. These are generally full of beauty, grace, and simplicity; and while, in reading the productions of Edwards and his coadjutors, every sort of allowance is to be made, and we can only praise a little at intervals, these lyrics, twenty or thirty years later, are among the best in our language. The conventional tone is that of pastoral; and thus, if they have less of the depth sometimes shown in serious poetry, they have less also of obscurity and false refinement" Literature of Europe (1837-39) 2:221.
Fie on the sleights that men devise,
Heigh hoe sillie sleights:
When simple Maydes they would entice,
Maides are yong mens chiefe delights.
Nay, women they witch with their eyes,
Eyes like beames of burning Sunne:
And men once caught, they soone despise,
So are Sheepheards oft undone.
If any young man win a maide,
Happy man is he:
By trusting him she is betraide,
Fie upon such treacherie.
If Maides win young men with their guiles,
Heigh hoe guilefull greefe:
They deale like weeping Crocodiles,
That murther men without releefe.
I knowe a simple Country Hinde,
Heigh hoe sillie Swaine:
To whom faire Daphne prooved kinde,
Was he not kinde to her againe?
He vowed by Pan with many an oath,
Heigh hoe Sheepheards God is he:
Yet since hath chang'd, and broke his troath,
Troth-plight broke, will plagued be.
She had deceived many a swaine,
Fie on false deceite:
And plighted troath to them in vaine,
There can bee no greefe more great.
Her measure was with measure paide,
Heigh hoe, heigh hoe equall meede:
She was beguil'd that had betraide,
So shall all deceavers speede.
If every Maide were like to me,
Heigh hoe hard of hart:
Both love and lovers scorn'd should be,
Scorners shall be sure of smart.
If every Maide were of my minde,
Heigh hoe, heigh hoe lovely sweete:
They to their Lovers should proove kinde,
Kindnes is for Maydens meete.
Me thinkes love is an idle toy,
Heigh hoe busie paine:
Both wit and sence it dooth annoy,
Both sence and wit thereby we gaine.
Tush Phillis cease, be not so coy,
Heigh hoe, heigh hoe coy disdaine:
I know you love a Sheepheards boy,
Fie that Maydens so should faine.
Well Amarillis, now I yeeld,
Sheepheards pipe aloude:
Love conquers both in towne and field,
Like a Tirant, fierce and proude.
The evening starre is up ye see,
Vesper shines, we must away:
Would every Lover might agree,
So we end our Roundelay.