May
MAY has come bright, joyous May;
Earth has donned her robes of green;
Covered o'er with blossoms gay,
All the hillsides now are seen.
Bright winged minstrels fill the air
With their music wild and sweet;
Joy and gladness everywhere
Our delighted senses greet.
Little brooklets dance along
On their bright and pebbly way,
Joining in the merry song
Of earth's glorious holiday.
While we on such beauty gaze
Thus spread out o'er field and wood,
Let us lift our hearts in praise
To the Giver of all good.
ALTA I. CHIPMAN