May - An 1843 Poem
By Amelia.
- Oh, this is the beautiful month of May,
- The season of birds and of flowers,
- The young and the lovely are out of the way
- 'Mid up-springing grass and the blossoms at play;
- Oh many a heart will be happy to-day,
- In this beautiful region of ours.
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- Sweet April, the frail, the capriciously bright,
- Hath passed like the lovely away;
- Yet we mourn not for her absence, for swift at her flight
- Sprang forth her young sister an angel of light,
- And fair as a sunbeam that dazzles the sight,
- Is beautiful, beautiful May.
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- What scenes of delight, what sweet visions she brings,
- Of freshness, of gladness and mirth,
- Of fair sunny glades where the butter-cup springs,
- Of cool gushing fountains, of rose-tinted wings
- Of birds, bees, and blossoms, all beautiful things,
- Whose brightness rejoices the earth.
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- How fair is the landscape o'er hill-top and glade,
- What swift-varying colors are rolled
- The shadow now sunshine, the sunshine now shade;
- Their light-shifting hues for the green earth have made
- A garment resplendent with dew-gems o'erlaid
- A light-woven tissue of gold!
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- Oh yes, lovely May, the enchantingly fair,
- Is here with her beams and her flowers;
- Their rainbow-like garments the blossoms now wear,
- For all in their health-giving odors may share,
- For the breath of their sweetness is out in the air
- Those children of sunbeam and showers.
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- The fragrant magnolia is loveliness drest,
- The lilac's more delicate hue,
- The violet, half-opening its azure-hued vest,
- Just kissed by a sunbeam, its innocent quest,
- The light-floating cloudlets, like spirits at rest,
- All pictured in motionless blue
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- These brighten the landscape, and softly unroll
- Their splendors by land and by sea;
- They steal o'er the heart with a magic control,
- That lightens the bosom and freshens the soul:
- Oh! this is the charm that enhances the whole,
- And makes them so lovely to me.
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- How sweet when the month's in the flush of its prime,
- To hear, as we wander alone,
- Some bird's sudden song from the sweet-scented lime,
- And catch the low gush of its exquisite chime,
- And set it to music, and turn it to rhyme,
- With a spirit as light as its own.
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- And sweet to recline 'neath the emerald-robed trees,
- Where fairy-like footsteps have trod,
- With the lull of the waters, the hum of the bees,
- Melting into the spirit, delicious degrees
- Of exquisite softness! In moments like these
- I have walked with the angels of God.
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- Sweet season of love when the fairy queen trips
- At eve through the star-lighted grove;
- What rows are now breathed where the honey-bee sips!
- What cheeks whose bright beauties the roses eclipse,
- Are crimsoned with blushes! What rose-tinted lips
- Are moist with the kisses of love!
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- Yet loveliest of months! with the praises I sing,
- Thy glories are passing away
- With the dew from the blossom, the bird on the wing;
- Yet round thee a garland poetic I fling,
- Sweet sister of April! young child of the Spring!
- Oh beautiful, beautiful May!
May 29, 1843. New York Daily Tribune 3(43): 4. From the Louisville Journal.