Now is the springtide gay When lambs frolic and play And buds burst all around, Thrush with beauteous song Thru' each fair Mayday long Exalts its dulcet sound. But sweetheart thru' this season, there seems no sense of reason, For tho' I ask each day Yet still you answer nay To be my queen uncrowned (Chorus:) Tho' there are no words of romance, From those lips I long to kiss, In faith I shall still worthship you Sweet mistress think on this. Summer now is here When days so long and so clear Grace blossoms cheerful sight, Cygnets shed their down, The owls loses its frown, For milder is the night, Yet sweethesrt thu' this season there seems no sense of reason For tho' I beg you still Our love for to fulfil Your answer's no outright. (Chorus) Autumn's saffron scene Of apple trees pickled clean Is pleasing to our eyes, Shades of ageing gold Bring comfort from the cold And brighten grey-clad skies, Yet sweetheart thru' this season there seems no sense of reason, For all my pleas to you Are straightaway shunned 'in the lieu' Of reasoned replies. (Chorus)