Elizabethan May

Introduction

The poem describes village life from the eve of May Day throughout May Day itself.

I have drawn from some of the contemporary writers criticisms of the festival’s goings on. This poem was much inspired by the works of Prof Ronald Hutton of Bristol University
By the way, formation ribbon dancing around maypoles originates in the 18th century and is derived from dance forms in Italy and France, so is a modern import.

Elizabethan May

Young men women, and other married folk,

Run gadding to woods, and yon groves of oak.

To spend the warm night, in pleasant pastime,

Summer gives blessing, to those in their prime.

Forty oxen to carry, the Maypole,

Three hundred people, devotedly stroll.

Sweet nose gays of flowers, on oxen horn,

With branches and birch, return in the morn.

Back to the village, they doth slowly trek,

Mayday assemblies, ready to deck.

Hauling branches for, arbours and bowers,

The Maypole covered, with herbs and flowers.

From top to bottom, Maypole bound with string,

Painted with bright colours, for the May king.

Pulling on long ropes, they haul it up straight,

But amorous play, and dancing must wait.

Arbours and bowers, to be built hard by,

Raunchy summer halls, beneath the blue sky.

Bawdy fun in arbour, if it doth rain,

Only bishop and priest, might they abstain.

The lusty men, and their Lord of Misrule,

Hobby horses dragons, giants and fool.

Handkerchiefs borrowed, from their mopsies dear,

For busying them, in the dark with cheer.

Summer lord and queen, crown their love with flowers,

And revel with them, in summer bowers.

The pipe and tabor, make such merry glee,

As at a May pole, you would wish to see.

Pipers and drummers, strike up devils dance,

Skirmishing amongst, the throng they advance.

Into the church, like incarnate devils,

Jingling bells, like madmen in revels.

Handkerchiefs and flags, on the Maypole top,

The bawdy and lewd, behaviour nonstop.

The ground strewn about, with herbs and flowers,

Bears many a couple, in the small hours.

Falling to dance around, in the warm sun,

In times to come, prudish priests stopped the fun.

Handkerchiefs swinging, above heads like madmen,

Save us from rude, Hobby horses amen.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2010