Some sowing remains to be done in late years; and in forward ones, the weeds, which spring up abundantly in fields and gardens, require to be kept under. The husbandman now looks forward with anxious hope to the reward of his industry. Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious man THOMSON. A MAY-DAY SONG. Come out, come from cities, Talk not of want of leisure; Turn out from lane and alley, Come, hear the silver prattle Of brooks that bubbling run Where violets' hidden eyes MAY-DAY CAROLS. In song the spring comes willing Then leave your weary moiling, Come, stretch you where the light 199 W. C. BENNETT. Get up, get up! for shame; the blooming morn See how Aurora throws her fair The dew-bespangled herb and tree: Each flower has wept, and bowed towards the east Above an hour since; yet you not drest; Nay, not so much as out of bed, When all the birds have matins said, And sung their thankful hymns; 'tis sin, When as a thousand virgins on this day, Spring sooner than the lark to fetch in May. HERRICK. While the noon is so warm and so weary. As the sun through the brake Bids the fauvette and whitethroat sing cheery. The quicken is tufted with blossom of snow, Peeps over her nest, In the midst of the crab-blossoms blushing; Is frequent and pleasant When all other calls are hushing. WILLIAM HOWITT. "Instead of describing the progressive features of this lovely month," writes an author, who loves the country, "I shall rather say to every one that can, go out into the country and see them. See the village greens, where the May-poles once collected about them all the population of the place to rejoice. See the woods, to which the young people used to go out before daylight, a-Maying. See the fields, deep with richest grass and flowers, where children in this beautiful holiday of Nature have from age to age run and gathered pinafores full of perishable beauty and fragrance. Pace the river sides, where poets have walked, and mused on songs in honour of May. Sit on stiles, where lovers have sate, and dreamed that life was a May-month, to be followed by no autumn of care, no winter of death. Gaze on the clear sky, where, spite of death and care, the word-Immortalityis written in the crystal dome of God. Enjoy that beauty which can come only from an eternal source of beauty; listen to that joy ringing from the throats of birds and the hum of insect wings-joy that must come from an eternal source of joy; and let the holiday heart strengthen itself in the assurance that all this scene of enjoyment is meant to be enjoyed, and not in vain. Look at the gorgeous blossoms of the chesnut-tree; see the lavish snow, which weighs down the hawthorn bough; gaze on the glory of the mountain-ash, the laburnum, the guelder-rose, and, at the latter end of the month, on the broad white flowers of the elder and the wayfaring tree; and feel that May comes but once a year, and will not give an hour more than is in her commission-no, not at the command of all the kings on earth." SONGS OF MAY. May is come, and May is flying; "Tis the hour when life is deepest ; Buds are breaking; love is waking; Love her! bless her! as she goeth, For she goes to all the perished; May is come, and May is flying; WILLIAM HOWITT. 201 Yes, truly before this sweet May is flown, let us bathe our hearts in delicious May sunshine; let us bind up a fragrant garland from the poets; let us listen to the chorus of human and feathered minstrels. And first to the Laureate. MAY QUEEN. You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear; I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake, Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the green, And you'll be there too, mother, to see me made the queen; And I'm to be queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be queen o' the May The honeysuckle round the porch has woven its many bowers, And I'm to be queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be queen o' the May. The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow-grass, All the valley, mother,'ll be fresh, and green, and still, And the rivulet in the flowery dale'll merrily glance and play, So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear, For I'm to be queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be queen o' the May. |