[All bow. The dancers place the crown on May’s head and form for the dance which immediately follows. At its close May recites.]
Hear the birds a-singing,
See the leaping rill,
How they greet my coming
Over vale and hill.
In my hands are blossoms,
On my face a smile,
And my days of sunshine
Sadness will beguile.
Jury. You surely are a lovely lass—