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III.

I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake, If you do not call me loud when the day begins to break: But I must gather knots of flowers, and buds and garlands

gay,

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be

Queen o' the May.

As I came up the valley whom think ye should I see, But Robin leaning on the bridge beneath the hazel-tree? He thought of that sharp look, mother, I gave him

yesterday,– But I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be

Queen o’ the May.

He thought I was a ghost, mother, for I was all in white, And I ran by him without speaking, like a flash of light. They call me cruel-hearted, but I care not what they say, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be

Queen o’the May.

vi.

They say he's dying all for love, but that can

never be: They say his heart is breaking, mother—what is that

to me? There's many a bolder lad 'ill woo me any summer day, And I'm to be Queen o’the May, mother, I’m to be

Queen o' the May.

VII.

Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the green, And you 'll be there too, mother, to see me made the

Queen; For the shepherd lads on every side ’ill come from far

away, And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be

Queen o’the May.

VIII.

The honeysuckle round the porch has wov'n its wavy

bowers, And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet

cuckoo-flowers;

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And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire in swamps

and hollows gray, And I’m to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be

Queen o' the May.

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The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow

grass, And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as

they pass; There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong

day, And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I ’m to be

Queen o' the May.

All the valley, mother, 'ill be fresh and green and still, And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the hill, And the rivulet in the flowery dale ’ill merrily glance

and play, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I 'm to be

Queen o' the May.

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So you must wake and call me early, call me early,

mother dear, To-morrow ’ill be the happiest time of all the glad

New-year: To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest merriest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be

Queen o' the May.

NEW-YEAR'S EVE.

If you're waking call me early, call me early, mother dear,
For I would see the sun rise upon the glad New-year.
It is the last New-year that I shall ever see,
Then you may lay me low i'the mould and think no more

of me.

To-night I saw the sun set: he set and left behind
The good old year, the dear old time, and all my peace

of mind; And the New-year's coming up, mother, but I shall

never see The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the tree.

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