  It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green cornfield 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, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, These pretty country folks would lie, In spring time, etc. This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that a life was but a flower In spring time, etc. And therefore take the present time, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; For love is crowned with the prime In spring time, etc. |
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