 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
MAY (IV)
Up like a princess starts the merry morning,In draperies of many-coloured cloud;
And skylarks, minstrels of the early dawning,
Pipe forth their hearty anthems long and loud.
The bright enamoured sunshine goes a-maying,
And every flower his laughing eye beguiles;
And on the milkmaid's rosy face a-playing,
Pays court to beauty in its softest smiles.
For May's divinity of joy begun
Adds life and lustre to the golden sun;
And all of life, beneath its glory straying,
Is by May's beauty into worship won;
Till golden eve ennobles all the west,
And day goes blushing like a bride to rest.
| The Poems of John Clare | |