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And for the mournful bird
Greenwoods are dressed,
THE QUEEN OF THE MAY.
HERE'S a bank with rich cowslips and cuckoo-buds
To exalt your bright looks, gentle Queen of the May! Here's a cushion of moss for your delicate shoon,
And a woodbine to weave you a canopy gay.
Here's a garland of red maiden-roses for you—
Here are bracelets of pearl from the fount in the dale, That the nymph of the wave on your wrists doth bestow;
Here's a lily-wrought scarf your sweet blushes to hide, Or to lie on that bosom, like snow upon snow.
Here's a myrtle enwreathed with a jessamine band,
And do thou sway the evergreen sceptre of Truth.
Then around you we'll dance, and around you we'll sing
To soft pipe and sweet tabor we'll foot it away; And the hills, and the dales, and the forests shall ring, While we hail you our lovely young Queen of the May. George Darley.
PACK clouds away, and welcome day,
To give my love good-morrow.
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Wake from thy nest, robin redbreast,
Give my fair love good-morrow.
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow,
TO A SKYLARK.
Up with me, up with me, into the clouds! For thy song, lark, is strong,
Up with me, up with me, into the clouds!
With clouds and sky about thee ringing,
The spot which seems so to thy mind!
I have walked through wildernesses dreary, And to-day my heart is weary;
Had I now the wings of a Faery,
Up to thee would I fly.
There is madness about thee, and joy divine
Lift me, guide me, high and high,
Joyous as morning,
Thou art laughing and scorning:
Happy, happy Liver,
With a soul as strong as a mountain river, Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver, Joy and jollity be with us both!