54 
The Hawthorn. 
These pleasant diversions were not altogether confined to 
the country, however, for, in those olden days, not a town, not 
a city, not excepting the metropolis itself, but boasted of its 
Maypole. In London these Maypoles abounded, and the last 
of them, which stood in the Strand, near Somerset House, 
was not removed until 1717. The early part of May-day was 
spent in decorating these poles with garlanded hoops, with 
ribbons, and with the flowers that had been gathered in the 
early morn. When all was ready and a grassy mound erected, 
some fair maiden was elected Queen of the May, was crowned 
with flowers, and, with many other ceremonies equally pleasant 
and innocent, was inducted into transient village royalty. 
The following lines, entitled “ The Village Queen,” refer to 
this pretty pastoral custom, now unfortunately almost obsolete, 
except in very secluded districts : 
“Begun to fall had hawthorn’s snow 
In scented showers upon the ground. 
And almond blossoms now did strow 
Their pinky petals all around ; 
Her wavy hair the birch did fling 
Out to the May-wind’s warm caress; 
From ev’ry bough the birds did sing 
Of Spring-tide in her vernal dress. 
“So, tempted by the cloudless sky, 
I through the village took a stroll, 
To where I saw hoisted on high, 
With garlands deck’d, a gay Maypole. 
Upon the grass a merry group 
Of boys and girls were dancing seen; 
And as before the pole they’d troop, 
They bow’d to one they called the Queen. 
“ Of gauzy white her simple dress, 
Which they with garlands had enwound, 
And on her youthful brow did press 
The wreath with which they her had crown’d. 
I gazed upon the fragile child 
Who sat enthroned upon the green, 
And watched her whilst she sweetly smil’d 
On those who claimed her for their Queen. 
“The roses in her cheeks were few; 
Her little arms were wan and thin, 
And violet veins did much peer thro’ 
The lily whiteness of her skin. 
This little lass I knew full well 
As only daughter of our Dean; 
