Alfred Noyes

The World's May-Queen

    I

    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 feet
            To England, to England?
    In Italy, too, they heard the sweet
    Roses whisper and flutter and beat--
    "She's an old and a true, true love to greet
            In England!"

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


    II

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

    When Spring comes back to England
      And dons her robe of green,
    There's many a nation garlanded
      But England is the Queen;
    She's Queen, she's Queen of all the world
      Beneath the laughing sky,
    For the nations go a-Maying
      When 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 England
      The Spring is here again!"


    III

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

    There's many a wanderer far away
            From 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 May
            But England.


    IV

    When Drake went out to seek for gold
      Across the uncharted sea,
    And saw the Western skies unfold
      Their veils of mystery;
    To lure him through the fevered hours
      As nigh to death he lay,
    There floated o'er the foreign flowers
      A breath of English May:

    And back to Devon shores again
      His dreaming spirit flew
    Over the splendid Spanish Main
      To haunts his childhood knew,
    Whispering "God forgive the blind
      Desire that bade me roam,
    I've sailed around the world to find
      The sweetest way to home."


    V

    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 sea
            To England, to England!
    For there's many a land of the brave and free
    But never a home o' the hawthorn-tree,
    And never a Queen o' the May for me
            But England!

    And round the fairy revels whirl
            In England, in England!
    And the buds outbreak and the leaves unfurl,
    And where the crisp white cloudlets curl
    The Dawn comes up like a primrose girl
    With a crowd of flowers in a basket of pearl
            For England!