The May-Dew

Come with me, love, I'm seeking A spell in young year's flowers; The magical May-dew is weeping Its charm o'er the summer bow'rs; Its pearls are more precious than those they find In jewell'd India's sea; For the dew-drops, love, might serve to bind Thy heart, for ever, to me! Oh come with me, love, I'm seeking A spell in the young year's flowers; The magical May-dew is weeping It's charm o'er the summer bowers. Haste, or the spell will be missing We seek in the May-dew now, For soon the warm sun will be kissing The bright drops from the blossom and bough; And the charm is so tender the May-dew sheds O'er the wild flowers' delicate dyes, That e'en at the touch of the sunbeam, 'tis said, The mystical influence flies. Oh, come with me, love, I'm seeking A spell in the young year's flowers; The magical May-dew is weeping Its charm o'er the summer bowers.