A SONG
Reading edition
The red’s in the heather, the gold’s on the fern— Heigho! Heigho! A nip to the wind and the year at the turn— Heigho, Johnny! The aglet and rowan, shine bright on the bough— Heigho! Heigho! But seedtime, or harvest be one to him now— Heigho, Johnny! All one the wild weather, the wind and the rain— Heigho! Heigho! For she that made summer will not come again— Heigho, Johnny! Was left in the lurch at a young woman’s whim— Heigho! Heigho! Who cared not a cuss for the ruin of him— Heigho, Johnny! Oh, little we mind what the seasons may bring— Heigho! Heigho! When hearts are a winter without any spring— Heigho, Johnny!