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| OF all the fair months that round the sun | |
| In light-linked dance their circles run, | |
| Sweet May, shine thou for me; | |
| For still, when thy earliest beams arise, | |
| That youth who beneath the blue lake lies, | 5 |
| Sweet May, returns to me. | |
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| Of all the bright haunts where daylight leaves | |
| Its lingering smile on golden eves, | |
| Fair lake, thou ’rt dearest to me; | |
| For when the last April sun grows dim, | 10 |
| Thy Naiads prepare his steed for him | |
| Who dwells, bright lake, in thee. | |
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| Of all the proud steeds that ever bore | |
| Young plumed chiefs on sea or shore, | |
| White steed, most joy to thee; | 15 |
| Who still, with the first young glance of spring, | |
| From under that glorious lake dost bring | |
| My love, my chief, to me. | |
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| While, white as the sail some bark unfurls | |
| When newly launched, thy long mane curls, | 20 |
| Fair steed, as white and free; | |
| And spirits, from all the lake’s deep bowers, | |
| Glide o’er the blue wave scattering flowers | |
| Around my love and thee. | |
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| Of all the sweet deaths that maidens die, | 25 |
| Whose lovers beneath the cold wave lie, | |
| Most sweet that death will be | |
| Which, under the next May evening’s light, | |
| When thou and thy steed are lost to sight, | |
| Dear love, I ’ll die for thee. | 30 |
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