May in February by Marie Van Vorst

When I go a Maying -- Maying -- / There his wanton wishes go! / Spring, like flowers, to meet me straying. / I must pluck them -- will, or no! / I must break each pale stalk slender: / I must lift each flower fair; / For I know they are the tender / Thoughts of love that greet me there.

I will wear them on my bosom. / In the night, when he comes home / He shall see his thoughts in blossom, / Oh Beloved Spring-time, / Come!