'MAY MORNING'

Oh! the sky is blue, and the sward is green, And the soft winds wake from the balmy west,— The leaves unfold in their gilded sheen, And the bird, in the tree top, builds its nest; The truant zephyr plumes her wings Once more, and quitting her perfumed bed, Soft calls on the sleeping flowers to wake, And sportive roams o'er each dewclad head. The bluebells nod within the wood, The snowdrop peeps from its milky bell, The motley Thora bends her hood, Whilst beauteous wild flowers line the dell; The wildbrier rose its fragrance breathes, The violet opes her cup of blue, The timid primrose lifts its leaves, And kingcups wake, all bathed in dew. From flower to flower the wild bee roams, Then buried within the cowslip's cup, He murmurs his low and music tones, Till she folds the wanton intruder up; The spring bird, wakening, soars on high, Gushing aloft its melting lay; Whilst painted clouds flit o'er the sky, All ushering in the dawn of May! Like a laughing nymph she springs to light, And tripping along in the world of flowers, Brushes the dew, in the morning bright, And weaves a joy for each heart of ours! With frolic hands, the daisy meek, From her lap of green she playful throws; Whilst the loveliest flowers spring round her feet, And fragrance bursts from the wild wood rose! Oh! glad is the heart, as through leafing trees The soft winds roam and in music play; Whilst the sick come forth for the healing breeze, And rejoice in the birth of the beauteous May, And glad is the heart of the joyous child, As bounding away through the tangled dell, It roams 'mid the flowers in greenwoods mild, And hunts the caged bee in the cowslip's bell! Oh! bright is this world—'tis a world of gems— And loveliness lingers where'er we tread; On the mountain top—or in lone wood glens: A spirit of beauty o'er all is spread! Then warmed be our hearts to that kindly Power That scatters bright roses o'er life's rough way; That unfolds the cup of the snowdrop's flower, And mantles the earth with the gems of May!