Lag: Thomas Morley

Now is the month of Maying,
when merry lads are playing,
fa la la la la

Each with his bonny lass,
upon the greeny grass, fa la la la la!

The spring, clad all in gladness,
doth laugh at winter’s sadness,
fa la la la la!

And to the bagpipes’ sound,
the nymphs tread out the ground,
fa la la la la!