72 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
In “ Hurrah for merry England, and the raising of 
the Maypole !” 
When the good old times had carol rhymes, 
With morris games and village chimes ; 
When clown and priest shared cup and feast, 
And the greatest jostled with the least, 
At the “ raising of the Maypole !” 
TO MAY. 
Come, beautiful May! 
Like youth and loveliness, 
Like her I love ; O come in thy full dress; 
The drapery of dark winter cast away; 
To the bright eye and the glad heart appear, 
Queen of the Spring and mistress of the year. 
Yet, lovely May! 
Teach her whose eyes shall rest upon this rhyme 
To spurn the gilded mockeries of time, 
The heartless pomp that beckons to betray, 
And keep, as thou wilt find, that heart each year 
Pure as thy dawn, and as thy sunset clear. 
