O month when they who love must love and wed.

O month when they who love must love and wed.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens read more

Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens above us
The very clouds move on.