Classic Poem

A PRIL 's gone, the king of showers;
May is come, the queen of flowers;
Give me something, gentles dear,
For a blessing on the year.
For my garland give, I pray,
Words and smiles, of cheerful May:
Birds of Spring to you we come,
Let us pick a little crumb.
In the dew of the morning we gathered our flowers
From the woodlands, and meadows, and garden bowers;
And now we have twisted our garland so gay,
We are come here to wish you a happy May-day.