Lover

It was a lover and his lass
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonino!
That o'er the green cornfield did pass,
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing hey ding a ding:
Sweet lovers love the Spring.
Between the acres of the rye
These pretty country folks would lie:
This carol they began that hour,
How that life was but a flower:
And therefore take the present time
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonino!
For love is crownéd with the prime
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the Spring.
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