"O lady! lady!" sings the lark,
"Thy lover's hest I do obey;
For thou art splendid after dark,
And where thou smilest, there is day;
And thou'rt the Lady of the May.
IV.
"The nightingale's a friend of mine,
And yesternight she flew my way.
'Awake,' she cried, 'at morning shine
And sing for me thy blythest lay