HAIL! thou longed-for month of May, | |
| Dear to lovers every day! | |
| Thou that kindlest hour by hour | |
| Life in man and bloom in bower! | |
| O ye crowds of flowers and hues | 5 |
| That with joy the sense confuse, | |
| Hail! and to our bosom bring | |
| Bliss and every jocund thing! | |
| Sweet the concert of the birds; | |
| Lovers listen to their words; | 10 |
| For sad winter hath gone by, | |
| And a soft wind blows on high. | |
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| Earth hath donned her purple vest, | |
| Fields with laughing flowers are dressed, | |
| Shade upon the wild wood spreads, | 15 |
| Trees lift up their leafy heads; | |
| Nature in her joy to-day | |
| Bids all living things be gay; | |
| Glad her face and fair her grace | |
| Underneath the sun’s embrace! | 20 |
| Venus stirs the lover’s brain, | |
| With life’s nectar fills his vein, | |
| Pouring through his limbs the heat | |
| Which makes pulse and passion beat. | |
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| O how happy was the birth | 25 |
| When the loveliest soul on earth | |
| Took the form and life of thee, | |
| Shaped in all felicity! | |
| O how yellow is thy hair! | |
| There is nothing wrong, I swear, | 30 |
| In the whole of thee; thou art | |
| Framed to fill a living heart! | |
| Lo, thy forehead queenly crowned, | |
| And the eyebrows dark and round, | |
| Curved like Iris at the tips, | 35 |
| Down the dark heavens when she slips! | |
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| Red as rose and white as snow | |
| Are thy cheeks that pale and glow; | |
| ’Mid a thousand maidens thou | |
| Hast no paragon, I vow. | 40 |
| Round thy lips and red as be | |
| Apples on the apple-tree; | |
| Bright thy teeth as any star; | |
| Soft and low thy speeches are; | |
| Long thy hand, and long thy side, | 45 |
| And the throat thy breasts divide; | |
| All thy form beyond compare | |
| Was of God’s own art the care. | |
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| Sparks of passion sent from thee | |
| Set on fire the heart of me; | 50 |
| Thee beyond all whom I know | |
| I must love for ever so. | |
| Lo, my heart to dust will burn | |
| Unless thou this flame return; | |
| Still the fire will last, and I, | 55 |
| Living now, at length shall die! | |
| Therefore, Phyllis, hear me pray, | |
| Let us twain together play, | |
| Joining lip to lip and breast | |
| Unto breast in perfect rest! | 60 |
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