A Book of old English love songs . opting Spring, the sweet Spring, is the years pleasant king;Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! The palm and may make country houses gay,Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,Cuckoo, jug-jug, put, we-o-witta-woo. [28]. Spring The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,In every street these tunes our ears do greet,Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!Spring!
A Book of old English love songs . opting Spring, the sweet Spring, is the years pleasant king;Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! The palm and may make country houses gay,Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,Cuckoo, jug-jug, put, we-o-witta-woo. [28]. Spring The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,In every street these tunes our ears do greet,Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!Spring! the sweet Spring! — Thomas Nash.
Size: 1281px × 1950px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1897
