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MAY.
The fruit-trees droop with crimson buds,
A prophecy of bloom;
The crocus and the daffodil
The garden-beds illume;
The pale arbutus springs to life,
And opes its starry eyes
In quiet forest paths and vales,
Where mellow sunshine lies.
A prophecy of bloom;
The crocus and the daffodil
The garden-beds illume;
The pale arbutus springs to life,
And opes its starry eyes
In quiet forest paths and vales,
Where mellow sunshine lies.
Anon upon the crystal air
Rings out the robin's note;
And from the tall elm by the spring
The bluebird's warblings float;
The lambs bleat on the pasture hills,
And frolic at their play,
And all the earth seems listening
To hear the step of May.
Rings out the robin's note;
And from the tall elm by the spring
The bluebird's warblings float;
The lambs bleat on the pasture hills,
And frolic at their play,
And all the earth seems listening
To hear the step of May.
MAY.
The air is full of golden glows:
Sweet prophecies of June
Are on the sunset skies each night,
Which face the rising moon;
In molten seas of amber mist
The stars shrink out of sight,
And in a maze of fervid hues
The day blends with the night.
Sweet prophecies of June
Are on the sunset skies each night,
Which face the rising moon;
In molten seas of amber mist
The stars shrink out of sight,
And in a maze of fervid hues
The day blends with the night.
