It Was a Lover and His Lass

T 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 the spring time, the only pretty ring time

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;

And therefore take the present time

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino;

For love is crowned with the prime

In the spring time, the only pretty ring time

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;