How cheerful are the signs of May,
The lily sweet and briar,
Perfuming every shady way
Beside the warbling river;
And thou, gay cuckoo! hast returned
To usher in the summer.
How pleasant is the cuckoo’s song
Which floats along the meadow,
How rich the sight of woodland green,
And pastures white and yellow,
The lark now soars into the heights
And pours her notes so mellow.
To welcome May, let thousands hie
At the sweet dawn of morning,
The winter cold has left the sky,
The sun is mildly beaming,
The dew bright sparkles on the grass,
All nature is rejoicing.
Let May be crown’d the best of months
Of all the passing year,
Let her be deck’d with floral wreaths,
And fed with juice and nectar,
Let old and young forsake the town
And shout a welcome to her.
THE DAWN.
By the Rev. Daniel Evans, B.D.
Streaking the mantle of deep night
The rays of light arise,
Delightful day—shed by the sun—
Breaks forth from eastern skies,
He—in his course o’er oceans vast
And distant lands—returns
Firm to his purpose, true his way,
He nature’s tribute earns:
Before him messengers arrive
And sparkle in the sky,
These are the bright and twinkling stars
Which spot the sable canopy.
The cock upon his lofty perch
Has sung the break of day,
The birds within the sheltering trees
Now frolic, chirp and play;
I see all nature is astir
As tho’ from sleep restor’d,
Alive with joy and light renew’d
By the Creator’s word:
Now every hill and valley low
Appear in full charm,
Beneath the sun’s benignant smiles,
Which now creation warm.