On May Morning by John Milton
Now the bright morning-star, day’s harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May! that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast they blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
How wonderfully alive!
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of Milton, I remember more his darkness, but this poem is filled with light and color. It makes me want to clap for the joy of it.
I wondered if perhaps it was written before he went blind, so I looked it up, and from what I could find out it was. I also read how the first part of his life was quite happy, and that pleases me. I love what you wrote: "it makes me want to clap for the joy of it."
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