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 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
But winter lingering chills the lap of May.
But winter lingering chills the lap of May.
 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. 
 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!