4 Old English Lyrics

Frederick Delius

2 voix · Voice, Piano

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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, puwe, towittawoo! Cuckoo, jugjug, puwe, towittawoo! 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, jugjug, pu- we, towittawoo! The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, Young lovers meet, old wives asunning sit, In every street these tunes our ears do greet _ Cuckoo, jugjug, pu- we, towittawoo! Spring, the sweet Spring!

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