A sweet country life is most pleasant and charming,
All for to walk abroad on a fine summer's morning,
Bright Phoebus did a-shine and the hills was adorning
As Molly she sat milking on a fair summer's morning.

No fiddle, no flute, no hautboy nor spinet
Is not to be compared to the lark or the linnet.
Down as I did lie all among the green rushes
'Twas there I did hear the charms of the blackbirds and thrushes.