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? Thou hast no need of us, Or pipe or wire; Thou hast the golden bee Ripened with fire; And many thousand more Songsters, that thee adore, Filling earth's grassy floor With new desire. Thou hast thy mighty herds, Tame and free-livers; Doubt not, thy music too In the deep rivers, And the whole plumy flight Warbling the day and night— Up at the gates of light, See, the lark quivers! Edward Hovell-Thurlow [1781-1829] |