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, In every street these tunes our ears do greet: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo! Spring, the sweet spring! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VOICE FROM THE SWEAT-SHOPS (A HYMN WITH RESPONSES) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 3. AFTER THE CLUB-DANCE by THOMAS HARDY IN TIME OF 'THE BREAKING OF NATIONS' by THOMAS HARDY SONNET: TO HOMER by JOHN KEATS KENTUCKY BELLE by CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON LOFT AT NIGHT by VIRGINIA ABEL THE GLASSES AND THE BIBLE by ST. CLAIR ADAMS |