In April when primroses paint the sweet plain,
And summer approaching rejoiceth the swain.
The yellow-hair'd laddie would often times go
To the wilds and deep glens, where the hawthorn trees grow.

The shepherd thus sung: Tho' young Madie be fair,
Her beauty is dash'd with a scornful proud air;
But Susie is handsome and sweetly can sing,
Her breath's like the breezes perfum'd in the spring.

That mamma's fine daughter, with all her great dow'r
Was awkwardly airy, and frequently sour;
Then, sighing he wished, would parents agree,
The witty sweet Susie his mistress might be.