Poems (Bushnell)/A May Song

by Frances Louisa Bushnell

XXVI
A MAY SONG

   Weave high, weave low
   Thy veil of blossom-snow,
Yet think not so to blind me, gentle May;
Too idly sweet thy wandering breezes blow—
   Oh! much I fear, dear May,
   Thou wilt not stay.

   I've known, ere now,
   A fairer one than thou,
Sweeter than winds that 'mid the violets stray:
My heart was like a nest on flowering bough—
   Too like, for neither spray
   Nor bird would stay.

   Before I knew,
   The bough was broken in two,
The blossoms withered and bird flew away:
Since then I clasp no hope that is not true
   And strong enough alway
   With me to stay.

   No longer clings
   My heart to dreamful things
That breathe and perish in a blossom's day,
That sing a song or two, then spread their wings.
   Oh! well I know, sweet May,
   Thou wilt not stay.