The delight of May
N. Gade
A cuckoo here, and there his mate,
Amid the foliage seated,
A tale of pleasure did relate,
And without end repeated:
"Oh say, what can more joyous be,
What more can heav'n bequeath us,
Than o'er our head the sun to see,
And freshest green beneath us?
What can more happy be, declare?
What sweeter 'mid the sweetest,
Than when two lovers young and fair,
In May, thou bravely greetest?"