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Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May:
Waiting for the pleasant rambles
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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.
Among the changing months, May stands confest
The sweetest, and in fairest colors dressed.
Among the changing months, May stands confest
The sweetest, and in fairest colors dressed.
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.
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 it ne sits not unto fresh May
Forto be coupled to cold January.
For it ne sits not unto fresh May
Forto be coupled to cold January.
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.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
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!
More matter for a May morning.
More matter for a May morning.
