May

The Spring-time with its balmy breath,
     Is abroad upon the hills;
And the sunshine dances gaily
     To the music of the rills;
And timidly the violet lifts
     Its head from the dewy grass,
As if to catch the fragrant gifts
     Of the breezes, as they pass.

Kissed by the spirit of the wind,
     The buds are peeping out
With their roguish eyes, as if to see
     What Nature is about!
The peach-tree and the lilac
     Unfold their virgin charras,
And look as if they meant to woo
     The Summer to their arms,

The cunning birds are busy now,
     For their wooing time has come;
And their little hearts flow out in song
     As they build their summer home;
They fling their notes on the odorous air,
     And lighten their toil with love—
And the watching maiden breathes a prayer
     For the minstrels of the grove.

‘Tis a pleasant thing to look upon
     The greenness of the Earth,
When the sunshine melts the ice away
     And calls the flowers to birth.
And the change, I ween, to the musing mind,
     A thought of the day shall bring,
When the Winter of Death shall pass away
     For Life’s eternal Spring!