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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.
All furnished, all in arms;
All plum'd like estridges that with the wind
Bated like eagles having read more
All furnished, all in arms;
All plum'd like estridges that with the wind
Bated like eagles having lately bathed;
Glittering in golden coats like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The read more
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May, that doth inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing,
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
No doubt they rose up early to observe
The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came read more
No doubt they rose up early to observe
The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
Came here in grace of our solemnity.
Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet,
Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet,
And golden locks in breezy read more
Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet,
Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet,
And golden locks in breezy play,
Half teasing and half tender, to repeat
Her song of "May."
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.
For every marriage then is best in tune,
When that the wife is May, the husband June.
For every marriage then is best in tune,
When that the wife is May, the husband June.
Who first beholds the light of day
In Spring's sweet flowery month of May
And wears an read more
Who first beholds the light of day
In Spring's sweet flowery month of May
And wears an Emerald all her life,
Shall be a loved and happy wife.
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!