The Crocodile and the Wren

What friendship shall I with him find
That to himself is so unkind?

By treading and risking much, the partridge feeds.
With love her little one's needs
While a wren that breeds about the river Nile,
Being full, yet gives herself to serve the crocodile.

Fie on that shameful deed which one,
In whom passion did rage so sore,
For love he did go and hanged himself,
Before his sweetheart's door.

Better to place bouquets of roses there,
And thereby seek to win her consent;
And to keep your life, and soul, and memories rare,
However your love is bent.

By misery and woe,
why should we torment ourselves so,
knowing there will always be another?