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!

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."

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.

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.

More matter for a May morning.

More matter for a May morning.

Hebe's here, May is here!
The air is fresh and sunny;
And the miser-bees are busy
read more

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

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.

Another May new buds and flowers shall bring:
Ah! why has happiness no second Spring?

Another May new buds and flowers shall bring:
Ah! why has happiness no second Spring?

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.