Poems (Mitford)/The Night of May
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THE NIGHT OF MAY.
To Miss W———
Fair is the blooming morn of June,
And fair October's brilliant moon,
And fair is July's sultry eve,
When show'rs the fainting earth relieve;
But fairer far thy night, sweet May,
Ilium'd by Cynthia's silver ray,
When, wand'ring through the shelter'd vale,
We fondly court the fragrant gale.
And fair October's brilliant moon,
And fair is July's sultry eve,
When show'rs the fainting earth relieve;
But fairer far thy night, sweet May,
Ilium'd by Cynthia's silver ray,
When, wand'ring through the shelter'd vale,
We fondly court the fragrant gale.
Fair was the scene: The clust'ring trees
Wav'd slowly in the gentle breeze,
The rustic bridge—the winding stream,
Where faintly play'd the trembling beam
And, dimly seen, the quiet farm—
Increas'd the ev'ning's pensive charm;
No sounds of day, with clamor rude,
Disturb'd the peaceful solitude;
Mute was all Nature's warbling train,
Save Philomel's enchanting strain.
Sweet bird! thy notes responsive find
A chord in each poetic mind;
And poets still, in rapt'rous lay.
To thee their grateful tribute pay;
Of thee each hallow'd lyre has rung,
By Shakspeare and by Milton sung!
Wav'd slowly in the gentle breeze,
The rustic bridge—the winding stream,
Where faintly play'd the trembling beam
And, dimly seen, the quiet farm—
Increas'd the ev'ning's pensive charm;
No sounds of day, with clamor rude,
Disturb'd the peaceful solitude;
Mute was all Nature's warbling train,
Save Philomel's enchanting strain.
Sweet bird! thy notes responsive find
A chord in each poetic mind;
And poets still, in rapt'rous lay.
To thee their grateful tribute pay;
Of thee each hallow'd lyre has rung,
By Shakspeare and by Milton sung!
And, fair companion of my May!
You felt the breathing charm of May,
The lovely scene your mind inspir'd,
And bright imagination fir'd.
Now gay, now sad, our various theme
Was changeful, as life's morning dream;
Now, gravely conn'd th' historic page,
Which charms us still from age to age,
Now, glancing o'er the tuneful throng,
Explor'd the glitt'ring mines of song;
And, varying still in fitful change,
From books to real life, we range;
With noble deeds our fancy warm,
Or dwell on Nature's milder charm;
Now tell some childish frolic gay,
Now pause to view thy beauties, May!
You felt the breathing charm of May,
The lovely scene your mind inspir'd,
And bright imagination fir'd.
Now gay, now sad, our various theme
Was changeful, as life's morning dream;
Now, gravely conn'd th' historic page,
Which charms us still from age to age,
Now, glancing o'er the tuneful throng,
Explor'd the glitt'ring mines of song;
And, varying still in fitful change,
From books to real life, we range;
With noble deeds our fancy warm,
Or dwell on Nature's milder charm;
Now tell some childish frolic gay,
Now pause to view thy beauties, May!
Say, when you tread the fertile vales,
Or climb the tow'ring hills of Wales,
Say, dearest Catherine! will you deign
To think of Berkshire's modest plain?
Yes; well I know, whate'er your lot,
You'll think of Whitley's lovely cot;
And still will fancy's vivid ray
Frequent the well-known group pourtray:
Its hospitable master there
Shall Andrews' sportive gambols share;
And view, with still encreasing joy,
The frolics of his blooming boy.
The graceful mother, young and fair,
Bends, smiling, o'er her latest care;
She, whose soft charms my verse inspire!
She, whom to know is to admire!
She, who to temper ever gay,
And feelings keen, and fancy's play,
Adds judgment true, and taste refin'd,
With ev'ry grace that decks the mind;
Alike in ev'ry scene of life,
The daughter, mother, and the wife!
Or climb the tow'ring hills of Wales,
Say, dearest Catherine! will you deign
To think of Berkshire's modest plain?
Yes; well I know, whate'er your lot,
You'll think of Whitley's lovely cot;
And still will fancy's vivid ray
Frequent the well-known group pourtray:
Its hospitable master there
Shall Andrews' sportive gambols share;
And view, with still encreasing joy,
The frolics of his blooming boy.
The graceful mother, young and fair,
Bends, smiling, o'er her latest care;
She, whose soft charms my verse inspire!
She, whom to know is to admire!
She, who to temper ever gay,
And feelings keen, and fancy's play,
Adds judgment true, and taste refin'd,
With ev'ry grace that decks the mind;
Alike in ev'ry scene of life,
The daughter, mother, and the wife!
Say—when for friends like these rever'd,
By kindred's sacred ties endear'd.
You feel affection's purest glow—
Will you a passing thought bestow
On her, who in the Night of May,
Delighted shar'd your converse gay?
And, vary as it may with me,
This shifting scene of woe and glee;
Whether, as now, of health possest,
With ev'ry social comfort blest;
Or, doom'd the general lot to share,
The prey of sickness or of care—
Still, when the wanton Zephyrs play,
And frolic in the sweets of May,
The dews of ev'ning, as they fall,
Our pleasant rambles will recall.
By kindred's sacred ties endear'd.
You feel affection's purest glow—
Will you a passing thought bestow
On her, who in the Night of May,
Delighted shar'd your converse gay?
And, vary as it may with me,
This shifting scene of woe and glee;
Whether, as now, of health possest,
With ev'ry social comfort blest;
Or, doom'd the general lot to share,
The prey of sickness or of care—
Still, when the wanton Zephyrs play,
And frolic in the sweets of May,
The dews of ev'ning, as they fall,
Our pleasant rambles will recall.
May fate for thee bright garlands twine,
And health, and peace, fair maid, be thine!
And health, and peace, fair maid, be thine!