
You must wake and call me early, call me early mother dear;
To-morrow’ll be the the happiest time of all the glad new-year,
Of all the glad new-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day;
For I’m to be Queen o’ the May, mother I’m to be Queen o’ the May.
The opening words of The May Queen by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), who was Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom for much of Queen Victoria’s reign, seem apt on this May Day morning.
I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t up early. Some, I know, were dancing up on Dorset’s Cerne Giant as the sun rose. And possibly bathing in the morning dew in the quest for eternal youth.
I’m usually an early riser during the week, but not today. It’s a Bank Holiday here in France and life is even quieter in this village than usual. So I’ve taken the day off.
Whatever you’re doing over the next few days, here’s to a peaceful, happy May Day weekend.
Incidentally, the pictures come from a brilliant article on the British Newspaper Archive’s blog tracing the traditions behind the May Queen ritual. It’s an absolutely fascinating read and can be found here.

