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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,
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,


every street these tunes our ears do greet, Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!


Spring! the sweet Spring!

Ariel's Song

COME unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:


Courtsied when you have and kiss'd

The wild waves whist :

Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!

BURDEN (dispersedly). Bowgh, waugh,


The watch-dogs bark:

BURDEN (dispersedly). Bowgh, waugh.


Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow !

whist] hushed.


burden] refrain.

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WHERE the bee sucks, there suck I :

In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.


Merrily, merrily shall I live now

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.


Puck's Song

OVER hill, over dale,


Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moonës sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours :
I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear

Meg Merrilies


OLD Meg she was a Gipsy,

And lived upon the moors:


Her bed it was the brown heath turf,

And her house was out of doors.

thorough] through.

dew her orbs] bedew the fairy rings.


Her apples were swart blackberries,
Her currants pods o' broom;

Her wine was dew of the wild white rose,
Her book a churchyard tomb.


Her Brothers were the craggy hills,
Her Sisters larchen trees-
Alone with her great family
She lived as she did please.


No breakfast had she many a morn,
No dinner many a noon,

And 'stead of supper she would stare
Full hard against the Moon.


But every morn of Woodbine fresh
She made her garlanding,

And every night the dark glen Yew
She wove, and she would sing.


And with her fingers old and brown
She plaited Mats o' Rushes,
And gave them to the Cottagers
She met among the Bushes.


Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen
And tall as Amazon:

An old red blanket cloak she wore ;
A chip hat had she on.

God rest her aged bones somewhere—
She died full long agone!






THIS is the weather the cuckoo likes,

And so do I;

When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly:

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And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at The Travellers' Rest,'
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.


This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;

When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh, and ply;

The hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,

And drops on gate-bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,

And so do I.


Thomas Hardy.

WHEN icicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail,

When blood is nipp'd, and ways

be foul,

Then nightly sings the staring owl,

To-who-a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

thresh and ply] toss and bend.

keel] cool, by stirring or adding something to prevent boiling over.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,

To-who !—a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.


14 Answer to a Child's Question

Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,
The linnet and thrush say, ' I love and I love!'
In the winter they 're silent-the wind is so strong—
What it says I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm

And singing, and loving, all come back together.
But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings, and for ever sings he—
'I love my Love, and my Love loves me!'



saw] sermon.

Ophelia's Song

How should I your true love know

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff

And his sandal shoon.

crabs] crab-apples.

cockle hat] hat with a cockle or scallop-shell stuck in it, as sign

that the wearer had visited the saint's shrine in Spain.

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