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338 4/5/1924-8.

Arrayed for the groom;
There's a wreath in her hair
And her bridal bouquet
scatters beauty afar
As she flings it away.

Here's May with her youth,
Just as lovely to see
As when first the world looked
on the green of the tree.
Man runs his brief race
Then his story is told
And the Grave takes him in
But May never grows old.

Here's May! The same May
Which thrilled men of the past
As she was long ago,
She shall be to the last,
And though over the world
Countless ages have rolled,
May has smiled at them all
And never grown old."