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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.
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."
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.
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!
There's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury,
exceeds her as much in beauty as the read more
There's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury,
exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last
of December.
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.
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?
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.
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.