Sunny March

The hedge is full of houses,

And the houses full of eggs,

For it's spring;

So the yellowhammer tinkles

To the hawthorn green again,

On the wing.

The sparrow, he the gymnast,

Swings more boldly on his spray

In the sun;

And the mavis floods the orchard

With an air too fine for June,

Trill and run.

Now my milking maid is waiting

By the haystack for a kiss

In the dusk;

So I clasp my love in lilac,

Dearly sweet with double scent,

Milk and musk.