The World's May-Queen

Whither away is the Spring to-day?To England, to England!In France they heard the South wind say,"She's off on a quest for a Queen o' the May,So she's over the hills far away,To England!"

And why did she fly with her golden feetTo England, to England?In Italy, too, they heard the sweetRoses whisper and flutter and beat--"She's an old and a true, true love to greetIn England!"

A moon ago there came a cryFrom England, from England,Faintly, fondly it faltered nighThe throne of the Spring in the Southern sky,And it whispered "Come," and the world went by,And with one long loving blissful sighThe Spring was away to England!

When Spring comes back to EnglandAnd crowns her brows with May,Round the merry moonlit worldShe goes the greenwood way:She throws a rose to Italy,A fleur-de-lys to France;But round her regal morris-ringThe seas of England dance.

When Spring comes back to EnglandAnd dons her robe of green,There's many a nation garlandedBut England is the Queen;She's Queen, she's Queen of all the worldBeneath the laughing sky,For the nations go a-MayingWhen they hear the New Year cry--

"Come over the water to England,My old love, my new love,Come over the water to England,In showers of flowery rain;Come over the water to England,April, my true love;And tell the heart of EnglandThe Spring is here again!"

So it's here, she is here with her eyes of blueIn England, In England!She has brought us the rainbows with her, too,And a glory of shimmering glimmering dewAnd a heaven of quivering scent and hueAnd a lily for me and a rose for youIn England.

There's many a wanderer far awayFrom England, from England,Will toss upon his couch and say--Though Spain is proud and France is gay,And there's many a foot on the primrose way,The world has never a Queen o' the MayBut England.

When Drake went out to seek for goldAcross the uncharted sea,And saw the Western skies unfoldTheir veils of mystery;To lure him through the fevered hoursAs nigh to death he lay,There floated o'er the foreign flowersA breath of English May:

And back to Devon shores againHis dreaming spirit flewOver the splendid Spanish MainTo haunts his childhood knew,Whispering "God forgive the blindDesire that bade me roam,I've sailed around the world to findThe sweetest way to home."

And it's whither away is the Spring to-day?To England, to England!In France you'll hear the South wind say,"She off on a quest for a Queen o' the May,So she's over the hills and far away,To England!"

She's flown with the swallows across the seaTo England, to England!For there's many a land of the brave and freeBut never a home o' the hawthorn-tree,And never a Queen o' the May for meBut England!

And round the fairy revels whirlIn England, in England!And the buds outbreak and the leaves unfurl,And where the crisp white cloudlets curlThe Dawn comes up like a primrose girlWith a crowd of flowers in a basket of pearlFor England!