As of a Water-Nymph, is still
Well to the fore. Pipe up! playing means paying,
When Fashion's Urban Flora goes a-Maying.

Come, my CORINNA, come; and, coming, mark
How each street turns a grove, each square a park,
Made green and trimmed with trees: see how
The pinky hawthorn decks the bough!
Each Bond Street porch, or door, ere this
Of Art a Tabernacle is;
Nor Art alone. With May is interwove
Seaweed, which Neptune's favourites love.
SWINBURNE should sing in stanzas fleet,
How NELSON may, at Chelsea, meet
ARMSTRONG! Sound conch-shell! Let's obey
Thy Proclamation made for May.
Wild marine whiffs from the salt sea are straying,
And the brine greets us as we go a-Maying.

There's not a London-Teuton but this day
Hath a new welcome for the English May.
Germania from her distant home
In Flora's train this year doth come.
She hath despatched her country's cream
Of things, to make the Cockney dream.
Neptune and she have wooed and plighted troth,
And her we give May-welcome, nothing loth,
As many a welcome we have given
To France, Spain, Italy! War hath riven
Many true hearts, but we're content