My songs should be as lilies fair, And roses made of crimson light, To lie amid the fragrant hair And on the breast of my delight.
Such glory is for them too high; I’ll scatter them adown the street, And when my love is passing by They will rise up and kiss her feet.
The Sun pours gold upon the waking earth And makes the hills and valleys ring with glee, Brings fruits and flowers to their joyous birth, And paints strange colors on the foaming sea. The Moon, with quivering wand of silver-white, Calls forth the fairies to their circling dance, Bids lovers seek their never old delight, And fills the air with perfume of romance. Yet, Sun, thy glory passes with the day, And Moon, the dawn destroys thy loveliness; But thou, sweet Star o’ Love, wilt shine alway, Nor night nor day can make thy splendor less. Fade, lordly Sun, and Moon, forget to shine, Since thy white wonder, Star o’ Love, is mine!
April with her violets, May and June with roses, Young July with all her flowers, crimson, gold and white, Each in place her tribute sets, Each her wreath composes, Making glad the roadway for the Lady of Delight.
Birds with many colors gay, Through the branches flitting, Sing, to greet my Lady Love, a lusty welcome song. Even bees make holiday, Hive and honey quitting, Tremulous and jubilant they join the eager throng.
Now the road is flower-paved; Timid fawns are peering From their pleasant vantage in the roadside’s leafy green. All the world in sunlight laved, Knows the hour is nearing That shall bring the golden presence of the well-loved Queen.
Hark! at last the silver trill Of a lute is sounding-- Happy August, purple-clad, appears with all her train. Sudden sweet the branches fill; Every heart is bounding; August comes, the kindly nurse of her who is to reign!
And now, with proud and valiant gait, An hundred centaurs come. Pan rides the foremost one in state; The waiting crowd grows dumb. Each centaur wears a jewelled thong And harness bright of sheen; They draw through surging floods of song The carriage of the Queen!
“Hail! Hail! Hail! to the Queen in her moonstone car! Hail! Hail! Hail! to the Lady whose slaves we are! We of the meadows, the rocks and the hills, Dwellers in oceans and rivers and rills, Beasts of the forests and birds of the air, Linnet and butterfly, lion and bear, Daisy and daffodil, spruce-tree and fir, Yield to our Queen and do homage to her! Hail! Hail! Hail! we welcome thy royal sway! Hail! Hail! Hail! O Queen, on this festal day!”