---------by Thomas Nashe

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king；

The 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, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

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