Candlemas, Lady Day; / But the Lady Month, May, / Why fasten that upon her, / With a feasting in her honour? Gerard Manley Hopkins

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Well but there was more than this: / Spring's universal bliss / Much, had much to say / To offering Mary May. Gerard Manley Hopkins

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O happy, happy morning! O dear, familiar place! / O warm, sweet tears of Heaven, fast falling on my face! / O well-remembered, rainy wind, blow all my care away, / That I may be a child again this blissful morn of May. Celia Thaxter

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Warm, wild, rainy wind, blowing fitfully, / Stirring dreamy breakers on the slumberous May sea, / What shall fail to answer thee? What thing shall withstand / The spell of thine enchantment, flowing over sea and land? Celia Thaxter

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While from the purpling east departs / The star that led the dawn, / Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts, / For May is on the lawn. William Wordsworth

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Cloud-piercing peak, and trackless heath, / Instinctive homage pay; / Nor wants the dim-lit cave a wreath / To honor thee, sweet May! William Wordsworth

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His voice shall chant, in accents clear, / Throughout the live-long day, / Till the first silver star appear, / The sovereignty of May. William Wordsworth

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Month of May, it's a violent thing / In the city, their hearts start to sing / Well, some people sing, it sounds like they're screaming / Used to doubt it but now I believe it Jeremy Gara; Regine Chassagne; Richard R. Parry; Tim Kingsbury; William Butler; Win Butler

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Month of May, everybody's in love / And the city was sent from above / And just when I knew what I wanted to say / The violent wind blew the wires away Jeremy Gara; Regine Chassagne; Richard R. Parry; Tim Kingsbury; William Butler; Win Butler

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If I die in the month of May / Let the wind take my body away, yeah / Wish I may or wish I might / But meet me down there with my arms folded tight Jeremy Gara; Regine Chassagne; Richard R. Parry; Tim Kingsbury; William Butler; Win Butler

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Now we are tall, and Christmas trees are small / And you don't ask the time of day / But you and I, our love will never die / But guess we'll cry come first of May Barry Gibb; Maurice Ernest Gibb; Robin Hugh Gibb

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Golden haze / Another morning feels like yesterday / End of May / And now you're gone and there's still bills to pay Timothy Paul Seely

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They're OK the last days of May / But I'll be breathin' dry air Buck Dharma

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Now, back in our town as a castaway / I'm reminded of the time it all fell in line, on the third of May / As if it were designed, painted in sand to be washed away Robin Noel Pecknold

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Cinco de Mayo in Memphis / Marchetti singin' the blues / Soul sisters hugging Senoritas / All sportin' Blue suede shoes Chuck Mead; Guy Clark

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Cinco de Mayo in Memphis / Marchetti singin' the blues / Southern belles and Senoritas / All sportin' Blue suede shoes Chuck Mead; Guy Clark

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Cinco de mayo, burn-out Ohio / It wasn't me this time letting you go Elizabeth Clark Phair

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Cinco de mayo, blowout, denial / It wasn't fun this time, letting you go / What if I never, a bullet forever, / Held out my hand to you? / We wouldn't have known beautiful flow Elizabeth Clark Phair

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Twas in the merry month of May / When green buds all were swelling, / Sweet William on his death bed lay / For love of Barbara Allen. Merle Travis

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Hi, derry day in the month of May / Was the song the minstrel sang / To the good of Robin Hood / Maid Marion and all the gang Gordon Lightfoot

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When Joanna loved me / Every town was Paris / Every day was Sunday / Every month was May Robert Wells; Jack Segal

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But when Joanna left me / May became December / But, even in December, I remember / Her touch, her smile, and for a little while Robert Wells; Jack Segal

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She loves me / And once again it's Paris / Paris on a Sunday / And the month is May Robert Wells; Jack Segal

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I've got sunshine on a cloudy day / When it's cold outside I've got the month of May William Smokey Robinson; Ronald White

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I didn't know what time it was / You hold my hand. / Warm like the month of May it was, / And I'll say it was grand. Lorenz Hart; Richard Rodgers

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This sweet and merry month of May, / While Nature wantons in her prime, / And birds do sing, and beasts do play / For pleasure of the joyful time, William Byrd

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Time is relative, n’est-ce pas? The past years seem to me to have flown by on gilded wings. To you, I daresay they have seemed an endless desert waste. But this is sorrv stuff for a lovely afternoon in May. Joan Smith

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Prose and drama are well enough for winter, but when nature swells the darling buds of May, my spirit craves three things: poetry, painting, and love. Joan Smith

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May then is the month, if not of fulfilment, at least of promise; and is not this the very aspect in which we most suitably regard the Blessed Virgin, Holy Mary, to whom this month is dedicated? Cardinal John Henry Newman

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May, therefore, is the time in which there are such frequent Alleluias, because Christ has risen from the grave, Christ has ascended on high, and God the Holy Ghost has come down to take His place. Cardinal John Henry Newman

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