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Get up, get
up for shame! the blooming morn
Upon her wings
presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her
fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air!
Get
up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangled herb
and tree.
Each flower has wept and bowed toward the
east
Above an hour since, -yet you not dressed;
Nay! not so much as out of bed?
When all the birds
have matins said
And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis
sin -
Nay, profanation -to keep in,
Whenas a
thousand virgins on this day
Spring sooner than the
lark, to fetch in May.
Rise, and put on your
foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the
springtime, fresh and green
And sweet as Flora. Take
no care
For jewels for your gown or hair:
Fear
not, the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon
you:
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept.
Come,
and receive them while the light
Hangs on the
dew-locks of the night:
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come
forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying:
Few beads
are best when once we go a-Maying.
Come, my
Corinna, come; and coming, mark
How each field turns
a street, each street a park
Made green and trimmed
with trees! See how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch! Each porch, each door, ere this
An ark, a
tabernacle is,
Made up of whitethorn neatly
interwove,
As if here were those cooler shades of
love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open
fields and we not see 't?
Come, we'll abroad; and
let's obey
The proclamation made for May,
And sin
no more, as we have done, by staying;
But, my Corinna,
come, let's go a-Maying.
There's not a budding
boy or girl this day
But is got up and gone to bring
in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come
Back,
and with whitethorn laden, home.
Some have dispatched
their cakes and cream,
Before that we have left to
dream;
And some have wept and wooed and plighted
troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off
sloth:
Many a green-gown has been given,
Many a
kiss, both odd and even;
Many a glance too has been
sent
From out the eye, love's firmament;
Many a
jest told of the key's betraying
This night, and
locks picked: yet we're not a-Maying!
Come, let
us go while we are in our prime,
And take the
harmless folly of the time!
We shall grow old apace,
and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is
short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun;
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain,
Once lost can
ne'er be found again;
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all
liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless
night.
Then while time serves, and we are but
decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying!
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