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：2005-7-24
Spring, the sweet Spring , is the year's pleasant king; Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! The palm and may make country houses gay, Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay, Cuckoo, jug-jug,pu-we, to-witta-woo! The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, Young [1] [2] 下一页
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