SWEET May hath come to love us, Flowers, trees, their blossoms don; And through the blue heavens above us The rosy clouds move on. The nightingales are singing On leafy perch aloft; The snowy lambs are springing In clover green and soft. I cannot be singing and springing, Ill in the grass I lie; I hear a distant ringing, And dream of days gone by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WITH BEST WISHES by DOROTHY PARKER THE PLOUGHER [OR PLOWER] by PADRAIC COLUM PUTTING IN THE SEED by ROBERT FROST TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH; ON THE PUBLICATION OF HIS POEM, 'PETER BELL' by BERNARD BARTON |