In arbour green asleep I lay, The birds sang sweet in the middle of the day I dreamed fast of mirth and play In youth is pleasure, In youth is pleasure. Methought I walked still to and fro And from her company I could not go But when I waked it was not so In youth is pleasure, In youth is pleasure. Therefore my heart is surely plight Of her alone to have a sight, Which is my joy and hearts delight In youth is pleasure, In youth is pleasure. (Based on a text in English by R. Wever, probably Richard Wever (c1500?-1560?), title unknown, from An Enterlude called Lusty Juventus, published 1565)