We have been rambling all of the night,
The best part of this day;
And we are returning here back again
And we've brought you a garland gay.
A bunch of May we bear about
Before the door it stands;
It is but a sprout and it's all budded out
And it's the work of God's own hand.
Oh wake up you, wake up pretty maid,
To take the May bush in.
For it will be gone and tomorrow morn
And you will have none within.
The heavenly gates are open wide
To let escape the dew.
It makes no delay it is here today
And it falls on me and you.
For the life of a man is but a span,
He's cut down like the flower;
He makes no delay he is here today
And he's vanished all in an hour.
And when you are dead and you're in your grave
You're covered in the cold cold clay.
The worms they will eat your flesh good man
And your bones they will waste away.
My song is done and I must be gone,
I can no longer stay.
God bless us all both great and small
And wish us a gladsome May.