And laughes the songes, that Colin Clout doth make.
She mocks his plight
And laughes the songes, that Colin Clout doth make.
She mocks his plight
Ah foolish Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene vayne: Colin them gives to Rosalind againe.
The gift he receives from Hobbinol are going to be given to the woman Colin is in love with
Mayst witnesse well by thy ill gouernement,
Not properly cared for
Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight
The wrath of winter reflected his sadness
Winters wastful spight was almost spent
When the snow from winter has almost vanished