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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=353954" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>May-Day, 1837</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MAY-DAY is come!--While yet the unwillng Spring <br>Checks with capricious frown the opening year, <br>Onward, where bleak winds have been whispering, <br>The punctual Hours their ancient playmate bear; <br>But those who long have look'd for thee, stand by, <br>Like men who welcome back a friend bereaved, <br>And camnot smile, because his sadden'd eye <br>Doth mutely tell them how his soul is grieved. <br>Even thus too greet thine alter'd face to-day, <br>Thou friend in mourning garb!--chill, melancholy May! <br>II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To thee the first and readiest smiles of Earth, <br>Lovely with life renew'd, were always given,-- <br>To thee belong'd the sunshine and the mirth <br>Which bathed all Nature with a glow from Heaven,-- <br>To thee the joy of Childhood's earnest heart, <br>His shouting song, and light elastic tread, <br>His brows high arch'd, and laughing lips apart, <br>Bright as the wreath that bound his rosy head.-- <br>Thou wert of Innocence the holiday, <br>Thou garlanded and glad!--thou ever-blooming May! <br>III.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet will I not reproach thee for thy change: <br>Closed be the flower, and leafless be the tree! <br>Smile not as thou wert wont; but sad, and strange, <br>And joyless, let thy tardy coming be! <br>So shall I miss those infant voices less, <br>Calling each other through the garden bowers, <br>Meeting and parting in wild happiness, <br>Leading a light dance thro' the sunny hours; <br>Those little mirthful hearts, who, far away, <br>Breathe, amid cloud-capp'd hills, a yet more wintry May! <br>IV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, boys! your play-ground is a desert spot, <br>Revisited alone, and bathed with tears; <br>And where ye pass your May-day, knoweth not <br>The mother who hath watch'd your dawning years. <br>Mine is no more the joy to see ye come, <br>And deem each step hath some peculiar grace! <br>Yours is no more the mother's welcome home, <br>Smiling at each beloved, familiar face! <br>And I an thankfiul that this dreary May <br>Recals not, save by name, that brighter, happier day! <br>V.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I should have felt more mock'd, if there had been <br>More peace and sunshine round me,--had the grove, <br>Clad in transparent leaves of tender green, <br>Been full of murm'ring sounds of Nature's love; <br>I should have wept more bitterly beneath <br>The frail laburnum trees, so faint and fair,-- <br>I should have sicken'd at the lilac's breath, <br>Thrown by the warm sun on the silent air; <br>But now, with stern regret I wend my way-- <br>I know thee not,--thou cold, and unfamiliar May!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Caroline+Elizabeth+Sarah+Norton">Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton</a><div class=q>
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MAY-DAY is come!--While yet the unwillng Spring 
Checks with capricious frown the opening year, 
Onward, where bleak winds have been whispering, 
The punctual Hours their ancient playmate bear; 
But those who long have look'd for thee, stand b..."></div>
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