There the city-teacher also Stretched himself upon the grass-bank. From the school he had absconded, Also to enjoy the fishing. In his heart he bore a secret, Had to-day composed a song. May-wine, May-wine, drink of magic! Suddenly his cheeks were glowing, And his eyes were shining brightly. On the rock he sprang courageous, Saying: "I will sing you something." Smiling now, the others listened, And young Werner stepping forward, On his trumpet low and softly Blew a piece first as a prelude. Then upon the rock the teacher Raised his voice and sang with fervour. Werner joined him on the trumpet Clear and joyful, and the chorus Also fell in--clear and joyful Through the forest rang the MAY SONG. "A wondrous youth of lovely mien Rich gifts of joy is strewing; O'er hill and vale, where'er are seen His footsteps, light is glowing. The fresh young green decks hill and lea, The birds are singing merrily, While falls in gentle showers A rain of snow-white flowers. So in the woods we sing and shout, Heigh-tralala loud ringing; We sing, while all things bud and sprout, To May our welcome bringing. "Young May in humming sounds delights, Is full of merry capers; So through the fir-trees swarm great flights Of golden buzzing chafers. And from the moss white lilies rise, Of spring the fairest sweetest prize; Their bells in tuneful measure Ring in the May with pleasure. So in the woods we sing and shout, Heigh-tralala loud ringing; We sing, while all things bud and sprout, To May our welcome bringing. "Now everyone may think, who can, Of mirth, and love that burneth; To many an old and worthy man His youth again returneth. His shouts resound across the Rhine: 'O let me in, thou sweetheart mine!' And voices loud are crying; Love's darts in May are flying. So in the woods we sing and shout Heigh-tralala loud ringing; We sing, while all things bud and sprout, To May our welcome bringing." Long the plaudits, loud the clapping, When it ended. And the ladies Also seemed delighted with it; As, indeed, in the loud chorus Many gentle female voices Readily could be distinguished. Margaret in playful humour, Out of hazel-leaves and holly, And of violets and crowfoot, Wound a garland, and said archly: "This wreath to the most deserving! But I'm puzzled who shall get it-- Whether he who sang the May-song, Or else he who on the trumpet Played the fine accompaniment."