Verse 1'T is spring; come out to ramble
The hilly brakes around,
For under thorn and bramble
About the hollow ground
The primroses are found.
Verse 2And there 's the windflower chilly
With all the winds at play,
And there 's the Lenten lily
That has not long to stay
And dies on Easter day.
Verse 3And since till girls go maying
You find the primrose still,
And find the windflower playing
With every wind at will,
But not the daffodil,
Verse 4Bring baskets now, and sally
Upon the spring's array,
And bear from hill and valley
The daffodil away
That dies on Easter day.
