Century Magazine/Volume 48/Issue 1/Love and May-Time

, gentle Love, I am weary of waiting! Why hast thou lingered so long on the way? Birds 'mid the boskage are wooing and mating: It is May!

Cold was the Winter, with snow-plumy pinions, Holding our hearts in his insolent sway; Now he is gone to his icy dominions: It is May!

Brooks down the hillsides are leaping and singing, What makes their laughter so rollicking gay? Why are the hedges with merriment ringing? It is May.

Love, gentle Love, I would welcome thee gladly, Yet far aloof from my roof dost thou stray; I cannot sing, for my song would fall sadly: It is May!

Love, gentle Love, bring me joy without measure! Make me thy debtor this jubilant day; Here is my heart in exchange for thy treasure: It is May! It is May!