Digital Tradition Mirror

Fortune My Foe

Fortune My Foe

Fortune, my foe, why dost thou frown on me?
And will my favours never greater be?
Wilt thou, I say, forever breed me pain?
And wilt thou ne'er restore my joys again?

Fortune hath wrought me grief and great annoy;
Fortune has falsely stole my love away.
My love and joy, whose sight did make me glad;
Such great misfortunes never young man had.

Appeared in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book (ca 1550-1620) in a
setting by Byrd. Referred to in Shakespeare (Merry Wives)
RG

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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