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.

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.

'Tis plate of rare device and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form, their values great,
And I read more

'Tis plate of rare device and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form, their values great,
And I am something curious, being strange,
To have them in sale stowage.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking
goodly pearls;
Who, when he had read more

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking
goodly pearls;
Who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold
all that he had, and bought it.

The glowing Ruby should adorn
Those who in warm July are born,
Then will they be exempt read more

The glowing Ruby should adorn
Those who in warm July are born,
Then will they be exempt and free
From love's doubt and anxiety.

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.

Wear a Sardonyx or for thee
No conjugal felicity.
The August-born without this stone
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Wear a Sardonyx or for thee
No conjugal felicity.
The August-born without this stone
'Tis said must live unloved and lone.

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others read more

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others touch, and often touching will
Wear gold; and no man that hath a name,
By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.

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!