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5.

MAY MORNING.

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May! that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee and wish thee long.

- JOHN MILTON.

6.

HUNTING SONG.

WAKEN, lords and ladies gay,

On the mountain dawns the day,

All the jolly chase is here,

With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear!
Hounds are in their couples yelling,

Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,

Merrily, merrily, mingle they,

"Waken, lords and ladies gay."

Waken, lords and ladies gay,

The mist has left the mountain gray,
Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
Diamonds on the brake are gleaming:

And foresters have busy been,

To track the buck in thickest green :
Now we come to chant our lay,

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Waken, lords and ladies gay,
To the green-wood haste away;
We can show you where he lies,
Fleet of foot, and tall of size ;
We can show the marks he made,
When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed;
You shall see him brought to bay,

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Louder, louder chant the lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay!
Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,
Run a course as well as we;

Time, stern huntsman! who can balk,
Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk;
Think of this, and rise with day,
Gentle lords and ladies gay.

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GET up, get up for shame! the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair

Fresh-quilted colours through the air :

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Get up, sweet-slug-a-bed, and see

The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept, and bowed toward the east,
Above an hour since; yet you not drest,

Nay! not so much as out of bed?

When all the birds have matins said,

And sung their thankful hymns: 'tis sin,

Nay, profanation, to keep in,

Whenas a thousand virgins on this day,

Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise; and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and green,
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown or hair:
Fear not; the leaves will strew

Gems in abundance upon you:
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept :
Come, and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night:
And Titan on the eastern hill

Retires himself, or else stands still

Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying : Few beads are best, when once we go a Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come; and coming, mark
How each field turns a street; each street a park
Made green, and trimmed with trees: see how
Devotion gives each house a bough

Or branch: each porch, each door, ere this,
An ark, a tabernacle is

Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street,
And open fields, and we not see't?
Come, we'll abroad: and let's obey
The proclamation made for May:

And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
But, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying.

There's not a budding boy or girl, this day,
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come

Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
Some have dispatched their cakes and cream,
Before that we have left to dream:

And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth :

Many a green-gown has been given;

Many a kiss, both odd and even :
Many a glance, too, has been sent
From out the eye, love's firmament:

Many a jest told of the keys betraying

This night, and locks picked:-yet we're not a Maying.

Come, let us go, while we are in our prime ; And take the harmless folly of the time!

We shall grow old apace, and die

Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short; and our days run
As fast away as does the sun :

And as a vapour, or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne'er be found again:

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So when or you or I are made

A fable, song, or fleeting shade :
All love, all liking, all delight

Lies drowned with us in endless night.

Then while time serves, and we are but decaying, Come, my Corinna! come, let's go a Maying.

- ROBERT HERRICK.

8.

THE STORY OF A SUMMER DAY.

O PERFECT Light, which shaid away
The darkness from the light,

And set a ruler o'er the day,
Another o'er the night;

Thy glory, when the day forth flies,

More vively does appear,

Than at midday unto our eyes

The shining sun is clear.

The shadow of the earth anon

Removes and drawès by,

While in the east, when it is gone,

Appears a clearer sky.

Which soon perceive the little larks,

The lapwing and the snipe,

And tune their songs, like Nature's clerks,

O'er meadow, muir, and stripe.

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