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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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.