'Tis May, and the air is balmy. The night entices, beguiles; I'm entranced, inveigled, held captive By thy myriad charms and thy wiles, Oh magical, musical, somnial May. Artistic whole, perfect completeness! All my senses are drunk With a beauty that conjures with gladness. The tree-toads are trilling love themes, Turtles gurgle to summon their mates, All life is enamored, becharmed; Crescent the moon, in its amours, Shyly hangs on the arms of the oak. I gaze to the east through the haze Of the silvery, mystical moonlight. Every tree seems to bend to caress its next friend. Fain would I possess thee forever. I'd summon all artists and muses To perpetuate thee, night of rapture. But what art can odors ensnare Or incarnate the kisses of mists? What harpischord, organ, or flute can record The trill of the tree-toad? What brush can catch moonbeams? What art can flesh love dreams? Ay, tonight, I'll drink deep of May-madness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UP IN THE MORNING EARLY by ROBERT BURNS THE LOST CHORD by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER TOLEDO CAPTURED BY THE FRANKS by AL-ASSAL THE WINDING ROAD by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN PSALM 19. COELI ENARRANT by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |