Littell's Living Age/Volume 138/Issue 1777/May
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Volume 138, Issue 1777 : May
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Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime,
And take the harmiesse follie of the time.
Spring's hands, in Shakespeare's words, you say,
"Do paint the meadows with delight" —
I go where artist hands in May
Hang paintings far more bright!
Though soft the twilight star that shines
On grassy mead and limpid stream —
The stars I seek when day declines
In Covent Garden beam!
Though sweet the thousand liquid notes
Your feathered songsters warble here —
My birds of eve from tuneful throats
Now utter notes more dear!
Farewell, ye streams, ye meads, ye flowers,
Until your autumn robes ye wear —
Though May is fair in country bowers,
'Tis fairest in Mayfair!