Full Lyrics
In the merry spring,
A shepherd thus did sing,
"I am young and debonair.
Will you love me, lady fair?"
"No, not I. My freedom is a dainty jewel."
"Out, alas, you are too cruel!
Hark, how the birds do sing;
Love is a pretty thing.
Ne'er was a youth so true;
Wilt thou not let him woo?"
"No, not I."
When the spring was o'er,
The lady sighed full sore,
"Art thou gone, young shepherd swain?
Wilt thou not come back again?"
"No, not I.
Too long I've borne thy proud disdaining."
"Out, alas, I meant but feigning!
Tho' 'tis no longer Spring,
Love is a pretty thing.
I'll not say no again,
Try me, dear shepherd swain?"
"No, not I."
