Poor robin-redbreast tunes his note;

Hark, how the jolly cuckoos sing

Cuckoo—to welcome in the spring!

Cuckoo—to welcome in the spring!

John Lyly

[21]

SPRING, THE SWEET 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: