Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO THE SPIRIT OF MAY, by JOHN TROTWOOD MOORE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO THE SPIRIT OF MAY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: And now she stands upon enthroning hills
Last Line: And throws a ray of ripeness o'er that face where unborn harvest sleeps.
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets


AND now she stands upon enthroning hills
And tosses wreaths of roses o'er the world,
With banner'd bloom about her head unfurl'd
And at her feet the music loving rills
While winter's lingering stirrup-cup with frothy clouds she fills.

The blue sky hangs above her like a veil,
And, dropping low, fringed with divinest lace,
It adds a softened shyness to that face,
Which, like a maid in love, now pink, now pale,
Needs but one look from earth to blush and tell its love-blown tale.

One slipper'd foot, flushed as the blossoming trees,
Is thrust, half-naked, in the bloom and spray
Of orchards, where throughout the dreamy day
The sunshine glints the wings of weaving bees,
And all her children, music mad, do touch their thousand keys.

And baby vines, awakening, have wound
And twined a bracelet bloom about her arms,
While 'round her waist, 'neath nestling charms,
A russet belt, with beaded berries bound—
The sun-maid's belt, dropped at her bath, which lover earth had found.

And Music dreams and pines and sighs
Within her eyes. And Poesy is there,
Prophetic-faced, with sun-red, Sappho hair.
And Hope above, star-vestal'd vigil keeps
And throws a ray of ripeness o'er that face where unborn Harvest sleeps.





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