The merry, merry spring, the bright, bright spring
What joy she shakes from her flow'ry wing!
When youth bird sings from its leafy nest
How happy it sleeps on its Mother's breast
How sweet to roam at beauty's side 
Thro' glens, and bells, and woondland's wide
How sweet to sit by a fountain clear
And whisper love to a Maiden's ear!

O the merry, merry Spring, the bright, bright Spring
What joy she shakes from her flow'ry wing!
At merry, merry morn, or Evening still,
How sweet to roam by the balmy hill;
To call a wreath of the flowrets rare 
To twine 'mid the locks of a Maiden's hair;
How sweet to fly from care and strife
And the dull cold round of City life
To roam the wood and shady grove
And plight out troth, To the Maid we love!