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On a day, (alack the day!)
SPRING, A SONG.
When daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks, all silver white,
Do paint the meadows with delight,
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks; The cuckow thén on every tree Mocks married men, for thus sings he; Cuckow ! Cuckow ! cuckow ! O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.
SONG OF FAIRIES,
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon, Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task foredone. Now the wasted brands do glow;
Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his spright,
In the churchway paths to glide ; And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecat's team,
Following darkness like a dream,
the dust behind the door.
SIGH no more, ladies, sigh no more;
Men were deceivers ever.
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
Into, Hey nonny, nonny.
Sing no more ditties, sing no mo,
Of dumps so dull and heavy; The fraud of men was ever so, Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so, &c.
WINTER, A SONG.
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 nipt, and ways be foul,
Joan doth keel the pot.
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;
A merry note,
A SONG ON FANCY,
Tell me, where is Fancy bred,
It is engender'd in the eyes ;