THE beautiful May

Returns to-day, 

Bringing the music of spring,

The looing of  herds

And singing of birds 

Make hills and galleys to ring.

The dews distilled

From bubbling rills 

Are glittering in the light,

And flowers fair

Perfume the air 

In orchard and meadow-lands bright.

The dancing brooks

In shady nooks 

Are murmuring their glad song;

They seem to say,

As they chant their lay, 

We're glad the springtime has come.

Then let us raise

A song of praise 

To the Author of our joy;

For soon he'll come

To take us home, 

Where there's bliss without alloy.