May

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

"As it fell upon a day In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made."

"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.""

"But winter lingering chills the lap of May."

"Sweet May hath come to love us, Flowers, trees, their blossoms don; And through the blue heavens above us The very clouds move on."

"O month when they who love must love and wed."

"O May, sweet-voiced one, going thus before, Forever June may pour her warm red wine Of life and passion,—sweeter days are thine!"

"Oh! that we two were Maying Down the stream of the soft spring breeze; Like children with violets playing, In the shade of the whispering trees."

"Ah! my heart is weary waiting, Waiting for the May: Waiting for the pleasant rambles Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles, With the woodbine alternating, Scent the dewy way; Ah! my heart is weary, waiting, Waiting for the May."

"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."

"In the under-wood and the over-wood There is murmur and trill this day, For every bird is in lyric mood, And the wind will have its way."

"As full of spirit as the month of May."

"No doubt they rose up early to observe The rite of May."

"In beauty as the first of May."

"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May."

"More matter for a May morning."

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

"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 I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May."

"Among the changing months, May stands confest The sweetest, and in fairest colors dressed."

"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?"

"For every marriage then is best in tune, When that the wife is May, the husband June."

"What is so sweet and dear As a prosperous morn in May, The confident prime of the day, And the dauntless youth of the year, When nothing that asks for bliss, Asking aright, is denied, And half of the world a bridegroom is And half of the world a bride?"