Whilst winter flies before the song,
Which floats on gentle gales.
Ye frozen streams dissolve and flow
Along the valley, sweet and slow;
Divested fields be gay;
Ye drooping forests bloom on high,
And raise your branches to the sky,
And thus your charms display.
Thou world of heat—thou vital source,
The torpid insects feel thy force,
Which all with life supplies;
Gardens and orchards richly bloom,
And send a gale of sweet perfume,
To invite them as they rise.
Near where the crystal waters glide,
The male of birds escorts his bride,
And twitters on the spray;
He mounts upon his active wing,
To hail the bounty of the Spring,
The lavish pomp of May.
Inspiring month of youthful Love,
How oft we in the peaceful grove,
Survey the flowery plume;
Or sit beneath the sylvan shade,
Where branches wave above the head,
And smile on every bloom.
Exalted month, when thou art gone,
May Virtue then begin the dawn
