It was a lover and his lass

With a hey and a ho, and a hey – nonino!

That o'er the green corn – field did pass

In the spring time, the only pretty sing 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 a but a flower;




And therefore take the present time

With a hey and a ho and a hey – nonino!

For love is crowned with the prime

In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do you sing hey ding a ding:

Sweet lovers love the Spring.