Spring, The Sweet Spring

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!

by Thomas Nashe

Other poems of NASHE (10)

Comments (13)

Unbelievably bad. A child of eight could do better. All that is famous is not neccessarily quality. We must never be afraid to be critical, or we will never learn,
Spring the king. Let us welcome spring. I like this poem. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
Anyone with good knowledge of poetry please help: ..fields breathe sweet. Is that an example of personification or not? ? Please help. Would like to hear from you.
Anyone with good knowledge of poetry please help: fields breathe sweet - is that an example of personification or not? ?
I love the open free feeling of this poem! makes me eager for spring! Thank you, nice job!
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