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