Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/The First Morning of May

by Lydia Sigourney

THE FIRST MORNING OF MAY.

MAY! I hail thy first-born morning,
Every charm its brow adorning,
Zephyrs sporting, music waking,
Streams their icy fetters breaking,

Hope expanding, joy reviving,
Nature in her beauty living.

Let my heart accordant raise
Purest incense, grateful praise;
Let my voice with accent free
Swell the song of harmony.

Let me quit this idle chime,
Wooing numbers into rhyme,
Sorting words, and killing time.
Inward let mine eye-beams glide
View my thoughts' uneven tide,
Roving, wandering far and wide:

Deeds on little purpose bent,
Faithless to the good intent,
Time on trifles vainly spent,
Deeply mourn, be wise—repent.