ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



53 



MAY MORNING. 



FOR SIX GIRLS. 



GREETED me at early day, 

 Groups of girls the fields adorning ; 

 Wreathing for their queen of May, 

 Blossoms of the morning. 



Cease, I cried, o'er hill and heath, 

 Wasting thus the fragrant hours; 



I can make a fairer wreath 

 You shall be the flowers. 



Who will be a violet ? 



Little Alice, take thy station; 



Lo ! thine eyes are dewy yet 



With some thought's creation. 



Dainty words and bashful smiles 



Wreathe thy fresh lips ever newly; 



Conquering with thy timid wiles, 

 Harsher souls unruly. 



Margaret, with pure cold eyes, 

 Thou shalt be a scornful lily 



Bending in a proud surprise ; 

 Smiling proud and chilly. 



Loose adown thy snowy veil, 



Till those eyes, like stars of even, 



Through the silver cloud burn pale, 

 Lighting still the heaven. 



Now a rose ! Now a rose ! 



Look at Julia, richly blushing, 

 Where the sun his kisses throws, 



Hair and forehead flushing. 



Floating o'er the crimson cheek, 

 Mossy ringlets fall disparted ; 



Darling rose, so mild, so meek, 

 True and fragrant-hearted. 



Where shall we a daisy see? 



Yonder sits my romping Lizzie, 



With her hand upon her knee, 

 In some mischief busy. 



