In the under-wood and the over-wood
There is murmur and trill this day,
For every bird is read more

In the under-wood and the over-wood
There is murmur and trill this day,
For every bird is in lyric mood,
And the wind will have its way.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.

May, queen of blossoms,
And fulfilling flowers,
With what pretty music
Shall we charm read more

May, queen of blossoms,
And fulfilling flowers,
With what pretty music
Shall we charm the hours?
Wilt thou have pipe and reed,
Blown in the open mead?
Or to the lute give heed
In the green bowers.

When May, with cowslip-braided locks,
Walks through the land in green attire.
And burns in meadow-grass the read more

When May, with cowslip-braided locks,
Walks through the land in green attire.
And burns in meadow-grass the phlox
His torch of purple fire:
. . . .
And when the punctual May arrives,
With cowslip-garland on her brow,
We know what once she gave our lives,
And cannot give us now!

O May, sweet-voice one, going thus before,
Forever June may pour her warm red wine
Of life read more

O May, sweet-voice one, going thus before,
Forever June may pour her warm red wine
Of life and passions,--sweeter days are thine!

Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with read more

Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing,
In the shade of the whispering trees.

Hebe's here, May is here!
The air is fresh and sunny;
And the miser-bees are busy
read more

Hebe's here, May is here!
The air is fresh and sunny;
And the miser-bees are busy
Hoarding golden honey.

As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
read more

As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made.

Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens read more

Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens above us
The very clouds move on.