MAIDEN MAY.

OH, what s the day, and where s the way
That brought you hither, sweeting?
The hills were brown as you came down,
The skies with tears were greeting.

But as you pass, the sodden grass
Takes on a sudden splendor;
And April dries her weeping eyes,
Then smiles in sweet surrender.

Oh, whereaway did you delay;
In what near nook, my sweeting,
Did slyly stand, so close at hand,
While April stood a-greeting?