68 
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
TO CORINNA, TO GO A-MAYING. 
Get up, get up for shame : the blooming Mom 
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. 
See how Aurora throws her fair 
Fresh-quilted colours through the air; 
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see 
The dew bespangling herb and tree. 
Each flower has wept and bowed toward the east 
Above an hour since, yet you are not drest, 
Nay, not so much as out of bed; 
When all the birds have matins said, 
And sung their thankful hymns : ’tis sin, 
Nay profanation, to keep in, 
When as a thousand virgins on this day 
Spring sooner than the lark to fetch in May. 
Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen 
To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and green, 
And sweet as Flora. Take no care 
For jewels for your gown or hair; 
Fear not, the leaves will strew 
Gems in abundance upon you; 
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, 
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept; 
Come, and receive them while the light 
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night; 
And Titan on the eastern hill 
Retires himself, or else stands still 
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying 
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying. 
