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They say his heart is breaking, mother—but what is that to me?

There's many a bolder lad'll woo me any summer day, And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the green, And you'll be there, too, mother, to see me made the

Queen;

For the shepherd lads on every side'll come from far

away,

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

The honeysuckle round the porch has wov'n its wavy bowers,

And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers;

And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray,

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

The night winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow-grass,

And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as

they pass;

There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the live

long day,

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

All the valley, mother, 'll be fresh and green and still, And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the hill, And the rivulet in the flowery dale'll merrily glance and play,

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear,

To-morrow'll be the happiest time of all the glad New year;

To-morrow'll be of all the year the maddest merriest day,

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

FAIRY FOLK AND FABLE.

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