When daffodils begin to peer

When daffodils begin to peer -

With heigh! The doxy over the dale -

Why, then comes the sweet o' the year;

For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge -

With heigh! The sweet birds, O how they sing!

Doth set my pugging tooth on edge;

For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

The lark, that tirra-lirra chants,

With heigh! with heigh! The thrush and the jay,

Are summer songs for me and my aunts,

While we lie tumbling in the hay.

But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?

The pale moon shines by night:

And when I wander here and there,

I then do most go right.

Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,

And merrily hent the stile-a:

A merry heart goes all the day,

Your sad tires in a mile-a.