Away to the oaken grove (Hob y deri danno)

Sweet, how sweet, the hawthorn blooming,

Round the balmy air perfuming,

Lovely May, these are thy treasures,

In thy train attend the pleasures, --

These thy treasures, lovely May.

On thy green lap flowrets springing,

Hark the merry birds are singing;

While the maidens featly dancing,

Hail thy footsteps slow advancing, --

These thy pleasures, lovely May.

Vi'lets with the primrose twining,

Dipp'd in dew, their hues combining,

Form the wreath thy brows adorning,

Fair and fresh, as early morning, --

These thy treasures, lovely May.

Come, sweet May, come softly smiling,

No chill blasts our hopes beguiling;

Guard the summer's blossom'd treasures,

In thy train attend the pleasures, --

These thy pleasures, lovely May.