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
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Hebe's here, May is here!
The air is fresh and sunny;
And the miser-bees are busy
Hoarding golden honey.

In the under-wood and the over-wood
There is murmur and trill this day,
For every bird is read more

In the under-wood and the over-wood
There is murmur and trill this day,
For every bird is in lyric mood,
And the wind will have its way.

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.

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.

Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with read more

Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing,
In the shade of the whispering trees.

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.

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!

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.