  No. V. May, 1837. MAY MORNING. Welcome, sweet May! There is not a day On the wings of the whole year round, That sheds in its flight Such heart-felt delight As thou dost, with even thy sound! May! May! There's music in May, From the breath of the mead To the song of the spray! Welcome, fair May! The first dewy ray That awaken'd the infant earth, Descended when Thou (With spring-summer brow) And Beauty were twins of a birth! May! May! There's something in May That even the lips Of thy son LEARY THE PIPER'S LILT. This is the first o' the May, boys! Listen to me, an' my planxty pipe Will show ye the fun o' the day, boys! I know for a spree that ye're always ripe, And fond o' gingerbread while it is gilt. "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" First, on the first o' the May, boys! Do as the birds did Valentine morn; Find out a lass for the day, boys! And then together go gether the thorn— I warrant she'll never be jade or jilt. "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" Go where ye may for the May, boys! Folla yir nose, an' ye'll find it soon: On every hedge by the way, boys! Ye'll hear it singin' its scented tune, Unless by the breath o' your darlin' kilt! "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" But isn't it betther the May, boys! All living to lave on its flow'ry tree, Than wound it by braking away, boys! A branch that in blossom not long will be When the rosy dew that it drank is spilt? "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" An' when ye're all tir'd o' the May, boys! Come to the sign o' the Muzzle an' Can: An' there, at the close o' the day, boys! Let ev'ry lass, by the side of her man, Dance till the daisies are spreadin' their quilt. "Hurroo! for Leary the Piper's Lilt!" W. |
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