a may-day song.
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But light to the element's edge sprang up,
A starry shape in bloom,
A strange wild flower in a fairy cup,
That shone in the water's gloom:
A starry shape in bloom,
A strange wild flower in a fairy cup,
That shone in the water's gloom:
And they say the penitent Pleiad's tears
Still feed that star of the wave,
As of old her smiles in holier spheres
To the Urn their pure light gave.
Still feed that star of the wave,
As of old her smiles in holier spheres
To the Urn their pure light gave.
A MAY-DAY SONG.
Yes! thou shalt wear the wreath we are merrily braiding,
Of buds and blooms—the beautiful roses of Spring!
Amid the hair, thy forehead of snow o'ershading,
'Twill mock the blush that steals to thy cheek as we sing.
Of buds and blooms—the beautiful roses of Spring!
Amid the hair, thy forehead of snow o'ershading,
'Twill mock the blush that steals to thy cheek as we sing.
