text: Green groweth the holly,
  So doth the ivy.
  Though winter blasts blow never so high,
  Green groweth the holly.
  
  As the holly groweth green
  And never changeth hue,
  So I am, ever hath been,
  Unto my lady true.
  
  As the holly groweth green
  With ivy all alone
  When flowers cannot be seen
  And greenwood leaves be gone,
  
  Now unto my lady
  Promise to her I make,
  From all other only
  To her I me betake.
  
  Adieu, mine own lady,
  Adieu, my special
  Who hath my heart truly
  Be sure, and ever shall.