You must shake and call me early,
Call me early, mother dear,
For to-morrow will be the happiest day
Of all the glad new year.
The weather forecast says: No rain,
Just sunshine all the day;
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May!

I shall wear my scarlet slippers
And my sky-blue Bombazine,
That Carrie and Kate and Margaret
May turn a sickly green;
But sister Effie's black, black eye,
Well, that was done in play:
I'm really rather excited, mother,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May!

I'm very tired indeed, mother,
I want my little cot:
My feet are lumps of ice, mother,
My brow is burning hot.
The rain came down in floods, mother,
And drenched my Bombazine;
My scarlet shoes collapsed, mother,
Dancing on the green.

How I longed for my goloshes
As we slithered in the slosh!
I've broken off with Robin
For not lending his MackIntosh;
Still, I have been Queen o' the May, mother,
A fig for all the rest!
Just bix be a bustard poultice, bother,
But try it-od Effie's chest!