Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see no enemy
But winter and rough weather.
I'll give you a verse to this note that I
made
yesterday in despite of my invention.
And I'll sing it.
Thus it goes:--
If it do come to pass
If it do come to pass
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease,
A stubborn will 
to please,
Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame:
Here shall he see
Gross fools as he,
An if he will come to me.
...will come to me.
What's that 'ducdame'?
It's Greek...
'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into
a circle.
