5.
Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens above us
The rosy clouds move on.
The nightingales are singing
On leafy perch aloft;
The snowy lambs are springing
In clover green and soft.
I cannot be singing and springing,
Ill in the grass I lie;
I hear a distant ringing,
And dream of days gone by.
6.
Softly through my spirit ring
Blissful tones loved dearly;
Sound, thou little song of spring,
Echoing far and clearly.
Sound, till thou the home com’st nigh
Of the violet tender;
And when thou a rose dost spy,
Say, my love I send her.
7.
With the rose the butterfly’s deep in love,
A thousand times hovering round;
But round himself, all tender like gold,
The sun’s sweet ray is hovering found.
With whom is the rose herself in love?
An answer I’d fain receive.
Is it the singing nightingale?
Is it the silent star of eve?