59 
With singing and shouting, and iolly chere: 
Before them yode a lustie tabrere. 
That to the many a hom-pype playd, 
Whereto they dauncen eche one with his mayd, 
To see those folks make such iovysaunce, 
Made my heart after the pype to daunce: 
Tho to the greene wood they speeden hem all 
To fetchen home May with their musicall; 
And one they bringen in a royale throne. 
Crowned as king; and his queene attone 
Was Lady Flora, on whom did attend 
A fayre flocke of faeries, and a fresh bend 
Of lovely nymphes, O that I were there 
To helpen the ladies their May-bush beare ! 
Though I have devoted so large a space to eulogies of the 
hawthorn, I cannot quit the subject without quoting a stanza 
from my graceful favourite, Herrick, also commemorating the 
ceremonies used in the meiTy olden-time on May-day. Much 
do I regret that such good and poetical festivities have become 
nearly obsolete. Many of the sports and pastimes of our an¬ 
cestors would now be unsuited to their more cultivated descend¬ 
ants; but such as bring us into close communion with Nature’s 
loveliness and glory must, of necessity, be yet more highly 
enjoyed as our minds become more elevated and capable of 
comprehending, appreciating, and, above all, heartily feeling 
the delightful influence of the harmony and beauty of creation. 
But let us hear Herrick. 
TO CORINNA, GOING A MAYING. 
Get up, get up, for shame, the blooming morne 
Upon her wings presesents the god unshorne. 
I 2 
