An Ode

As it fell upon a dayIn the merry month of May,Sitting in a pleasant shadeWhich a grove of myrtles made,Beasts did leap and birds did sing,Trees did grow and plants did spring;Every thing did banish moan,Save the nightingale alone.She, poor bird, as all forlorn,Lean'd her breast up-till a thornAnd there sung the doleful'st ditty,That to hear it was great pity.Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry,Teru, teru, by and by;That to hear her so complain,Scarce I could from tears refrain;For her griefs so lively shownMade me think upon mine own.Ah, thought I, thou mourn'st in vain;None takes pity on thy pain;Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee;Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee;King Pandion, he is dead,All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;All thy fellow birds do sing,Careless of thy sorrowing;Whilst as fickle fortune smil'd,Thou and I were both beguil'd.Every one that flatters theeIs no friend in misery:Words are easy, like the wind,Faithful friends are hard to find;Every man will be thy friendWhilst thou hast wherewith to spend,But if store of crowns be scant,No man will supply thy want.If that one be prodigal,Bountiful they will him call;And with such-like flatteringPity but he were a king.If he be addict to vice,Quickly him they will entice;If to women he be bent,They have at commandëment;But if fortune once do frown,Then farewell his great renown;They that fawn'd on him beforeUse his company no more.He that is thy friend indeedHe will help thee in thy need:If thou sorrow, he will weep;If thou wake, he cannot sleep;Thus of every grief, in heart,He with thee doth bear a part.These are certain signs to knowFaithful friend from flatt'ring foe.