68 WILD FLOWERS OF SCOTLAND 



Our village maidens are yet simple in their 

 ways and thoughts, with just a lingering touch of 

 rustic superstition. They rise before dawn on that 

 magic morning, the same to-day as it was six 

 centuries ago. 



The busy lark, messager of day, 

 Salueth in hire song the morwe gray ; 

 And fyry Phoebus ryseth up so bright, 

 That all the orient laugheth of the light. 



In quest of dew they go forth, between hedge- 

 rows which are green as yet, to shady nooks if 

 they be wise. And should they gather but as 

 much as will wet their cheeks, the freshness of 

 May will be there every morning of the year. 

 Surely the purity of some of these complexions is 

 worth preserving. 



With us there is no maypole or queen, or 

 pageant of any kind, although the children have 

 a game in which they dance round in a ring, to 

 some refrain, which sounds like a corruption of 

 " Merry May Day." Since dew for the cheek can 

 lie on the green blade, there is not the same need 

 of blossom for the pole. Mayhap we have no pole 

 because we have no blossom, and turn to the dew 

 as all we can get. 



Be that as it may, our hedges delay breaking 



