Staines Morris

Come ye young men, come along
With your music and your song
Bring your lasses in your hands
For 'tis that which love commands

Then to the maypole haste away
For 'tis now our holiday
'Tis the choice time of the year
For the violets now appear
Now the rose receives its birth
And the pretty primrose decks the earth

And when you well reckoned have
What kisses you your sweethearts gave
Take them all again and more
It will never make them poor
Then to the maypole haste away
For 'tis now our holiday

When you thus have spent your time
Till the day be past its prime
To your beds repair at night
And dream there of your day's delight
Then to the maypole haste away
For 'tis now our holiday

Come ye young men, come along
With your music and your song
Bring your lasses in your hands
For 'tis that which love commands