Now is the month of maying,
When merry lads are playing,
~
Each with his bonny lass
Upon the greeny grass.
~
The Spring, clad all in gladness,
doth laugh at Winter’s sadness,
~
And to the bagpipe’s sound
the nymphs tread out their ground.
~
Fie then! why sit we musing,
Youth’s sweet delight refusing?
~
Say, dainty nymphs, and speak,
Shall we play barley-break?
~
Thomas Morley, 1595
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?
