Spring will not wait
View ArtistLyrics
'Tis time, I think, by Wenlock town The golden broom should blow; The hawthorn sprinkled up and down Should charge the land with snow Spring will not wait the loiterer's time Who keeps so long away; So others wear the broom and climb The hedgerows heaped with may Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge Gold that I never see; Lie long, high snowdrifts in the hedge That will not shower on me
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Credits
- Writers
- John Ireland
- A. E. Housman