That parson puts to sleep.

They tickled their nut-brown tabors. Their garlands flew in showers,

And lasses and lads came after them, with feet like dancing flowers.

Their queen had torn her green gown, and bared a shoulder as white,

O, white as the may that crowned her,

While all the minstrels round her

Tilted back their crimson hats and sang for sheer delight:

Come up, come in with streamers!

Come in, with boughs of may!

Now by the gold upon your toe

You walked the primrose way.

Come up, with white and crimson!

O, shake your bells and sing;

Let the porch bend, the pillars bow,

Before our Lord, the Spring!

3

3

The dusty velvet hassocks were dabbled with fragrant dew.

The font grew white with hawthorn. It frothed in every pew.

Three petals clung to the sexton’s beard as he mopped and mowed at the clerk,

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