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1 Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,
2 Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
3 Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
4 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
5 The palm and may make country houses gay,
6 Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
7 And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:
8 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
9 The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
10 Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
11 In every street these tunes our ears do greet:
12 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!
Thomas Nashe
Read poems about / on: spring, dance, kiss, summer, house
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