ARBOR DA Y MAX UAL. 



'93 



All the valley, mother, 'ill be fresh and green and still, 



And the cowslip and che crowfoot are over all the hill, 



And the rivulet in the flowery dale 'ill merrily glance and play, 



For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 



So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear, 

 To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year; 

 To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest, merriest day. 

 For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 



TENNYSON. 



WHAT IS THE SONG THE SWALLOWS- SING? 



W'HAT is the song the swallows sing, 

 When skies are blue, and May is here, 

 And when they haste on joyful wing, 



To tell that summer-time is near? 

 The primrose comes to greet the Spring ; 



The roses bloom on even- hand, 

 What message do the swallows bring 



Returning from a fairer land ? 

 Among the trees and in the air, 



They come to us a merry throng ; 

 And as we listen to them there, 



What is their song? What is their song? 

 Farewell, farewell unto that distant clime 



Where once we dwelt and memory is sweet, 

 And welcome, welcome to the fair spring-time 



That waits us in the land that now we greet. 



What is the song the swallows sing, 



When Autumn skies are dark and drear? 

 A tender requiem they bring, 



To all that made the Summer dear, 

 Their spring-time joy is turned to grief; 



And each must sing before it goes, 

 A message to the falling leaf, 



A message to the fading rose ! 

 Ah, faithless rovers ! in the May 



You sang of love so clear and strong ; 

 And now, when skies are dull and gray, 



What is your song ? What is your song ? 

 Farewell, farewell unto this pleasant clime, 



Where once we dwelt and memory is sweet, 

 And welcome, welcome to the fair spring-time 



That waits us in the land that now we greet. 



HARRY B. SMITH. 



