Classic Poem

My love hath vowd hee will forsake mee,
And I am alreadie sped.
Far other promise he did make me
When he had my maidenhead.
If such danger be in playing,
And sport must to earnest turne,
I will go no more a-maying.

Had I foreseene what is ensued,
And what now with paine I prove,
Unhappie then I had eschewed
This unkind event of love:
Maides foreknow their own undooing,
But feare naught till all is done,
When a man alone is wooing.

Dissembling wretch, to gaine thy pleasure,
What didst thou not vow and sweare?
So didst thou rob me of the treasure
Which so long I held so deare;
Now thou prov'st to me a stranger,
Such is the vile guise of men
When a woman is in danger.

That hart is neerest to misfortune
That will trust a fained toong;
When flattring men our loves importune,
They entend us deepest wrong;
If this shame of loves betraying
But this once I cleanely shun,
I will go no more a-maying.