Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1832.pdf/11

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"May is full of flowers."—Southwell.

"Born in yon blaze of orient sky.  Sweet May, thy radiant form unfold. Unclose thy blue voluptuous eye,     And wave thy shadowy lock of gold." Darwin.

" month of flowers," May, Were they not wont to say That, of the Year's twelve lovely daughters, thou Didst wear most perfect sweetness on thy brow?

They said the crimson rose Was eager to unclose For thee the fragrant mysteries which lie Hidden in leafless boughs beneath the winter sky.

The poets told thy birth Was welcomed upon earth By the sweet multitude of shining flowers, By bursting buds, green leaves, and sunny hours.

And thou art come, sweet May; A week beneath thy sway The world has been; yet is it dull and cold: Doth it not own thy reign, as in the days of old?

To-day all life is strange With great and utter change; The power is past away from many a shrine And many a throne—must it, too, pass from thine?

Still o’er the darkened sky The heavy clouds sail by, Till the bleak shower comes down unpityingly, Beating the few faint blossoms from the tree.

Where is the yellow ore Which the laburnum bore, As if transformed, the Theban princess there, Amid the golden shower, loosed her more golden hair?