Winter's gone, the summer breezes
Breathe the shepherd's joys again,
Village scene no longer pleases,
Pleasures meet upon the plain;
Snows are fled that hung the bowers,
Buds to blossoms softly steal,
Winter's rudeness melts in flowers: -
Charmer, leave thy spinning wheel,
And tend the sheep with me.

Careless here shall pleasures lull thee,
From domestic troubles free;
Rushes for thy couch I'll pull thee,
In the shade thy seat shall be;
All the flow'r-buds will I get
Spring's first sunbeams do unseal,
Primrose, cowslip, violet: -
Charmer, leave thy spinning wheel,
And tend the flocks with me.

 ... 

Sweet to sit where brooks are flowing,
Pleasant spreads the gentle heat,
On the green's lap thyme is growing,
Ev'ry molehill forms a seat:
Fear not suns 'cause thou'rt so fair,
In the thorn-bow'r we'll conceal;
Ne'er a sunbeam pierces there: -
Charmer, leave thy spinning wheel,
And tend the flocks with me.