May


MAY has come bright, joyous May;

Earth has donned her robes of green;

Covered o'er with blossoms gay,

All the hillsides now are seen.

Bright winged minstrels fill the air

With their music wild and sweet;

Joy and gladness everywhere

Our delighted senses greet.

Little brooklets dance along

On their bright and pebbly way,

Joining in the merry song

Of earth's glorious holiday.

While we on such beauty gaze

Thus spread out o'er field and wood,

Let us lift our hearts in praise

To the Giver of all good.






ALTA I. CHIPMAN