The Collected Works of William Morris :: :: University of Virginia Library

In March, when the gold-bringing east wind blows
And bright and cloudless is the pale blue sky,
And day by day the sunset later grows,
And on red hedges green buds you may spy,
On such a day of March, when eve was nigh,
In a fair hall, those old men sat talking
With people of the land; and many a thing

Of ancient stories, each to other told;
Till for sweet youth and unforgotten land
The strangers sighed, and longings manifold
Possessed the strong ripe men that there did stand
Half shamefaced; and young lovers hand in hand
Sat silent, feeling the sweet tears arise
Into their happy, longing, youthful eyes.

APRIL

Soft is the air in the sweet April-tide,
When all day long the small brown thrushes sing
And sings the blackbird in the coppice side
And ever is the cuckoo on the wing.
Then were these old folk fain to welcome spring
And [in] an open southern chamber sat
One April morn and talked of this and that.

And in that morn to make their old hearts glad
With people of the land they drank well there,
Yet none the less, distraught they seemed and sad,
Although the promise of the spring was fair
And soft the April wind blew in their hair.
There in low voices these old tales they told
Remembered but in songs and ballads old.

346

MAY

The might of Love, and all his triumphing,
They told in Maytide, and yet therewithal,
Since to the wars he goeth, like every king,
They told of troubles too that needs must fall
Upon the faithful servants he doth call.
When they were dead and gone, on many a time
These tales were told in May beneath the lime;

For to a lover joy it is to lie
And watch his lady's face change here and there,
While moves the verse along melodiously
Through tales that tell of love and ladies fair;
Or see her blush from little chin to hair
When gentle longing for the end of day
The sweet words move, or the sweet flowery May.