Chords for Yeoman - I have a song to sing

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_ [C] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [F] _ _ [Dm] _ _
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_ [Am] _ _ _ [F] _ _ _ [C] _
_ [F] _ _ [F] _ _ _ _ [G] _
_ _ _ _ _ [Em] _ _ [A] _
_ [G] _ _ My masters, I pray you bear with [Em] us and we will satisfy _ you.
Who would make all merry as ourselves.
For look you, there is humour in all things.
And the truest philosophy is that [A] which teaches us to find it and make the most of it.
Now, [G] where with all shall we please you.
We can rhyme you couplets, triolets, quatrains, sonnets, rondolets, ballads, what you will.
Or we can dance you Sarabande, gondolet, carol, pipinelle or jumping joe.
The _ man and his [D] maids. _
[Eb] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I have a song [Gm] to sing.
[Bb] _ _ [Eb] _
[G] Sing ye your [Bb] _ _ _ _ _
[Eb] _ _ _ _ _ song.
Owned [Bb] by a love-lorn [Eb] loon who fled from the [Bb] mocking throng.
[Eb] Oh, it's a song of a merry [Bb] man, moaning [Eb] moth.
Whose soul was sad and whose [Bb] glance was glum.
[Eb] Who sipped no sup [Bb] and who craved no [Eb] crumb.
As he sighed for the love of a lady.
_ _ Lady, [Bb] lady, misery me [Eb]
lackaday.
He sipped no [Bb] sup and he craved no crumb.
[Eb] As he sighed for the love of a lady.
_ _ _ _ I have a song to sing.
What is your song?
_ _ _ It is sung with the ring of the songs we sing.
[Eb] Oh, love where the [Bb] love _ is a song of a merry maid, keely proud.
[Eb] Who loved a [Bb] lord and who _ _ [Eb] _
[Bb] was a moaning mom.
[Eb] Whose soul was sad and whose [Bb] glance was glum.
Who sipped no sup [Bb] and who craved no crumb.
[Eb] As he sighed for the love of a lady.
_ _ Lady, lady, [Bb] misery [Eb] me lackaday.
He sipped no sup and [Bb] he craved no crumb.
[Eb] _
_ _ Lady, _ _ _ I have a song to sing.
Sing me your song.
_ _ _ _ It is sung to the knell of [Bb] a churchyard bell [Eb] and a dog's [Bb] dirge ding-dong.
[Eb] It is sung of a popping [Bb] jay, bravely born.
Who [Eb] turned up his noble [Eb] nose, who was scorned at the humble merry maid, keely proud.
Who loved a lord and who laughed aloud at the moan of the merry man, moaning mom.
Whose soul was sad and [Bb] whose glance was glum.
Who sipped no [Eb] sup and who craved no crumb.
As he sighed for the love of a lady. _ _
Lady, lady, [Bb] misery me [Eb] lackaday.
He sipped no sup and he craved no crumb.
As he sighed for the love of a lady. _
_ _ _ _ I have a song to sing, oh.
Sing me your song. _ _
_ _ Sung with a [Bb] sigh and a tear in the eye, for it [Eb] tells of a righted wrong.
It's a song of a merry maid, once an oogie, who turned her heel and drifted away.
From sickles of [Bb] a weeping fool, [Eb] who turned up his noble nose with scorn.
At the humble heart that he did not cry, so she begged on her knees with _
_ _ _ [Bb] joking mom.
[Eb] Whose soul was sad and whose glance was glum.
_ _ _ [Bb] _ _ [Eb] _
_ _ Lady, _ lady, _
_ [Bb] misery me lackaday. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [Eb] _ _ _
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_ _ _ [G] _ _ _ _ _
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What is this?
Poppa.
Sir, we sang to these folk and they would have repaid us with gross turf.
But for your honor's coming.
Away with you.