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 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet,
 Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet,
  And golden locks in breezy read more 
 Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet,
 Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet,
  And golden locks in breezy play,
   Half teasing and half tender, to repeat
    Her song of "May." 
 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. 
 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! 
 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. 
 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.