Verse > Anthologies > Francis T. Palgrave, ed. > The Golden Treasury
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Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury.  1875.
 
T. Nash
 
I. Spring
 
SPRING, the sweet Spring, is the year's 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,         5
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,  10
In every street these tunes our ears do greet, 
  Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! 
      Spring! the sweet Spring! 
 
 
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