COME, May, with all thy flowers, Thy sweetly-scented thorn, Thy cooling evening showers, Thy fragrant breath at morn. When May-flies haunt the willow, When May-buds tempt the bee, Then, o'er the shining billow, My love will come to me. From Eastern isles, she wingeth Through watery wiles her way, And on her cheek she bringeth The bright sun's orient ray! Oh! come and court her hither, Ye breezes mild and warm, One winter's gale would wither So soft, so pure a form. The fields where she was straying Are bless'd with endless light; With zephyrs always playing Through gardens always bright. Then now, O May! be sweeter Than e'er thou'st been before, Let sighs from roses meet her, When she comes near our shore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INSCRIPTIONS: 8 by MARK AKENSIDE TO SLEEP, WHEN SICK OF A FEVER by PHILIP AYRES FUNERAL by ETHEL SKIPTON BARRINGER VERSES TO THE MEMORY OF P. BURGESS; A CHILD OF SUPERIOR ENDOWMENTS by BERNARD BARTON RECIPROCAL KINDNESS THE PRIMARY LAW OF NATURE by VINCENT BOURNE THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: NEWS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON CHAMPLAIN AND LAKE CHAMPLAIN by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY REFLECTIONS ON MY OWN SITUATION, WRITTEN IN T-TT-NGST-NE HOUSE by ANN CANDLER |