O month when they who love must love and wed.

O month when they who love must love and wed.

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.

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.

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.

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!

As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
read more

As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made.

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!

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.

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.