T was a Lover and his Lass,

IT

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 ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, 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 a life was but a flower:

And therefore take the present time,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; For love is crownéd with the prime

In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: Sweet lovers love the spring.

IE on sinful fantasy!

Fie on lust and luxury!

Lust is but a bloody fire

Kindled with unchaste desire,

Fed in heart, whose flames aspire

As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.

Pinch him, fairies, mutually;

Pinch him for his villany;

Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,

Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out.