| The Month of May |
Now Spring with bud and blos-som, is come to make us glad, Then sing with hap-py voi-ces, sing hey, sing ho, my lad |
| The Weary Gleaner |
To the har-vest at morn, Off I went gla-ning corn, And I'm wea-ry, oh so wea-ry, |
| Fare-well, My Son |
Fare-well, my son, and God be with you As o'er the world you take you way; |