Full Lyrics
'Tis May upon the mountain,
'Tis May upon the lea;
And in the flood, and in the wood,
And with the bird and bee,
The trees are weaving rainbows,
With sunbeams, buds and dew
If of May I sing, 'tis but to bring,
My earliest song to you.
The cuckoo now is telling
Her name to ev'ry grove:
Each flower holds up a dewy cup,
Lipful of life and love.
The fragrant breath of morning,
Breathes hopes and fancies new;
If of them I sing, 'tis but to bring,
My earliest song to you.
