You must wake and call me early,
call me early, mother dear;
Tomorrow'll be the happiest time
of all the glad New-year;
O all the glad New-year, mother, the
maddest merriest day;
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
There's many a black, black eye, they say,
but none so bright as mine;
There's Margaret and Mary, there's
Kate and Caroline:
But none so fair as little Alice
in all the land they say,
So I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
The Queen of the May
From Randolph Caldecott's
"Come Lassies and Lads"
(1884)
I sleep so sound all night, mother,
that I shall never wake,
If you do not call me loud when
the day begins to break:
the day begins to break:
But I must gather knots of flowers
and buds and garlands gay,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
As I came up the valley whom
think ye should I see,
But Robin leaning on the bridge
beneath the hazel-tree?
He thought of that sharp look, mother,
I gave him yesterday-
but I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
(1899)
He thought I was a ghost, mother,
for I was all in white,
And I ran by him without speaking,
like a flash of light.
They call me cruel-hearted, but I care
not what they say,
For I 'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
They say he's dying all for love, but,
that can never be:
They say his heart is breaking, mother
-what is that to me?
There's many a bolder lad 'ill woo me
any summer day,
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
Little Effie shall go with me
tomorrow to the green,
And you will be there, too, mother, to
see me made the Queen;
For the shepherd lads on every side
will come from far away,
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
The honeysuckle round the porch has
wov'n its wavy bowers,
And by the meadow-trenches blow the
faint sweet cuckoo-flowers;
And the wild marsh-marigold shines
like fire in the swamps and hollows gray,
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
The night winds come and go, mother,
upon the meadow-grass,
And the happy stars above them seem to
brighten as they pass;
There will not be a drop of rain the
whole of the live-long day,
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
All the valley, mother, will be fresh
and green and still,
And the cowslip and the crowfoot are
over all the hill,
And the rivulet in the flowery dale will
merrily glance and play,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May.
So you must wake and call me early,
call me early, mother dear,
Tomorrow 'ill be of all the year the
maddest merriest day,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
"The May Queen
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
(1809-1892)
No comments:
Post a Comment