Queen art thou still for each gay plant Cloud-piercing peak, and trackless heath, Instinctive homage pay ; Nor wants the dim-lit cave a wreath To honour thee, sweet May! Where cities fanned by thy brisk airs Their puniest flower-pot-nursling dares And if, on this thy natal morn, Or love within the breast. Yes! where Love nestles thou canst teach The soul to love the more; 30 35 40 45 50 Hearts also shall thy lessons reach That never loved before. Stript is the haughty one of pride, While rising, like the ocean-tide, Hush, feeble lyre! weak words refuse The service to prolong! To yon exulting thrush the Muse Entrusts the imperfect song; 55 60 His voice shall chant, in accents clear, 1826. XXXIX. TO MAY. THOUGH many suns have risen and set Delicious odours! music sweet, Oh for a deathless song to meet That, when a thousand years are told, Earth, sea, thy presence feel-nor less, With its soft smile the truth express, The heavens have felt it too. The inmost heart of man if glad Partakes a livelier cheer; And eyes that cannot but be sad Let fall a brightened tear. Since thy return, through days and weeks How many wan and faded cheeks Have kindled into health! The Old, by thee revived, have said, 66 'Another year is ours;" And wayworn Wanderers, poorly fed, Who tripping lisps a merry song The tender Infant who was long A prisoner of fond fears; But now, when every sharp-edged blast Is quiet in its sheath, His Mother leaves him free to taste Earth's sweetness in thy breath. creeps Thy help is with the weed that And yet how pleased we wander forth 25 Heaven's bounteous love through me is spread From sunshine, clouds, winds, waves, Drops on the mouldering turret's head, 30 35 40 45 50 55 Such greeting heard, away with sighs Are linked in endless chase; While, as one kindly growth retires, 60 And what if thou, sweet May, hast known 65 Mishap by worm and blight; If expectations newly blown Have perished in thy sight; If loves and joys, while up they sprung, Such is the lot of all the young, However bright and fair. Lo! Streams that April could not check Gurgling in foamy water-break, By thee, thee only, could be sent Curling with unconfirmed intent, How delicate the leafy veil Through which yon house of God Gleams 'mid the peace of this deep dale And lowly huts, near beaten ways, No sooner stand attired In thy fresh wreaths, than they for praise 70 75 80 85 Season of fancy and of hope, A blossom from thy crown to drop, Keep, lovely May, as if by touch Of self-restraining art, 90 This modest charm of not too much, 95 1826-1834. XL. LINES SUGGESTED BY A PORTRAIT FROM THE PENCIL OF BEGUILED into forgetfulness of care I Before my window, oftentimes and long gaze upon a Portrait whose mild gleam Of beauty never ceases to enrich 5 The common light; whose stillness charms the air, Or seems to charm it, into like repose; 10 15 In a white vest, white as her marble neck And through the very atmosphere she breathes, |