Hail Bounteous May: Verse for May Day

Song on May Morning by John Milton 1608-1674

Now the bright morning Star, Dayes harbinger,
  Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
  The Flowry May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose.
  Hail bounteous May that dost 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 welcom thee, and wish thee long. 

To Violets by Robert Herrick 1591-1674

WELCOME, maids of honour!

        You do bring

        In the spring,

And wait upon her.

She has virgins many,

        Fresh and fair;

        Yet you are

More sweet than any.

You're the maiden posies,

        And so graced

        To be placed

'Fore damask roses.

Yet, though thus respected,

        By-and-by

        Ye do lie,

Poor girls, neglected

Now is the month of Maying by Thomas Morley 1557-1602

Now is the month of maying,

When merry lads are playing,

Fa la la la la la la la la,

Fa la la la la la la lah.

Each with his bonny lass

Upon the greeny grass.

Fa la la la la la la la la,

Fa la la la la la la lah.

The Spring, clad all in gladness,

Doth laugh at Winter's sadness,

Fa la la la la la la la la,

Fa la la la la la la lah.

And to the bagpipe's sound

The nymphs tread out their ground.

Fa la la la la la la la la,

Fa la la la la la la lah.

Fie then! why sit we musing,

Youth's sweet delight refusing?

Fa la la la la la la la la,

Fa la la la la la la lah.

Say, dainty nymphs, and speak,

Shall we play barley break?

Fa la la la la la la la la,

Fa la la la la la la lah.

May Morning on Magdalen Tower

by John William Burgon (1813–1888)

Now ring out all the bells a merry chime;

While the hoarse horn croaks forth, a league below,

The note which doubtless seems the true sublime

To urchins straining might and main to blow.

Ring out, glad bells! and let the sleepers know

That, while they slept, we watched the month of May

Twine the first garland for her virgin brow.

Then bid them rise, for 'tis the prime of day:

And lo, the young Month comes, all smiling, up this way!

Life's May-day by Ben Johnson (1572-1637)

I saw the rustic May Queen, crowned

   With coronel of flowers,

With merry children gathered round,

   To laugh away the hours.

In morning sheen, with stately mien,

   Walked the fair Queen of May;

And little care, or thought, was there,

   Of how time sped away.

I saw the sombre evening come, 

   With train of lagging hours,

The fretful children turned them home,

   Nor brought their faded flowers.

In life's fresh morn, fond hopes are born

   Which fade ere shadows come;

And life's long day, though fair as May,

   May make us sigh for home.