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.
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Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May:
Waiting for the pleasant rambles
read more
Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May:
Waiting for the pleasant rambles
Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles,
Where the woodbine alternating,
Scent the dewy way;
Ah! my heart is weary, waiting,
Waiting for the May.
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the
May.
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the
May.
Another May new buds and flowers shall bring:
Ah! why has happiness no second Spring?
Another May new buds and flowers shall bring:
Ah! why has happiness no second Spring?
O month when they who love must love and wed.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
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.
But winter lingering chills the lap of May.
But winter lingering chills the lap of May.
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."
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!
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.
