31. 32. Song of the May 'ISTER, awake! close not your eyes! SISTE The day her light discloses, And the bright morning doth arise See the clear sun, the world's bright eye, In at our window peeping. Us idle wenches sleeping! Therefore awake! make haste, I say, SEE My Fair A-Field EE where my Love a-Maying goes She most alone with nightingales Turn again, my dearest! The pleasant'st air's in meadows; And kiss amongst the willows. Anon. Anon. 33. Is The Merry Month of May S not thilke the merry month of May, For thilke same season, when all is yclad With pleasaunce; the ground with grass, the woods To gather May buskets and smelling brere; E. Spenser 34. May-Song O, THE month of May, the merry month of May, So frolic, so gay, and so green, so green, so green! O, and then did I unto my true love say, Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my Summer's Queen. Now the nightingale, the pretty nightingale, The sweetest singer in all the forest choir, Entreats thee, sweet Peggy, to hear thy true love's tale: Lo, yonder she sitteth, her breast against a brier. But O, I spy the cuckoo, the cuckoo, the cuckoo ! Come away, I prithee, I do not like the cuckoo O, the month of May, the merry month of May, Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my Summer's Queen. T. Dekker 35. Love's Emblems NOW the lusty spring is seen; Golden yellow, gaudy blue, Daintily invite the view: Everywhere on every green Roses blushing as they blow, All love's emblems, and all cry, Yet the lusty spring hath stay'd; Every woman, every maid: Cherries kissing as they grow, J. Fletcher 36. Now A Round W that the Spring hath filled our veins And made green liv'ries for the plains, Sing we a song of merry glee, And Bacchus fill the bowl: 1. Then here's to thee; 2. And thou to me Nor Care, nor Sorrow e'er paid. debt, Nor never shall do mine; I have no cradle going yet, No wife at home to send for me No suit in law to pay a fee, - Then round, old Jockey, round! 37. All Shear sheep that have them, cry we still, But see that no man 'scape To drink of the sherry, That makes us so merry, W. Browne Ralph, the May-Lord LONDON, to thee I do present The merry month of May; Let each true subject be content I will both tell my name to you, Yet far inferior to the flock Of gracious grocery; And by the common counsel of My fellows in the Strand, With gilded staff and crossèd scarf, Rejoice, oh, English hearts, rejoice! Rejoice, oh, city, town, and country, |