Come walk a mile with me —‘ Tis merry May-time;
The little lambs are gamboling on the green,—
Nature is glad — it is her hour of playtime,
And now, or never, her true heart is seen;
The butterflies are floating down from heaven,
And humming-birds again are on the wing,—
And the kind swallows, seventy times seven,
Fill all the air with merry murmuring.
And see the lilacs by yon cottage blooming!—
How sweet the air is!— sweetness everywhere,
For look!— rich apple-blossoms are perfuming
This little lane that leads to woodlands fair,—
Here honeysuckle-bells are softly swinging,
And pink azaleas perfume all the wood,
And, in the trees, the vireos are singing
Incessantly their songs of solitude,
While round the hill, as slow our steps are wending,
We hear a sweet Voice calling,— “Come, O come!”
For see!— the sun is in the West decending,
And happy hearts are waiting us at home.