Classic Poem

May's the merriest time of all,
Life comes back to everything,
While a ray of light remains
The never weary blackbirds sing.

That's the cuckoo's strident voice,
“Welcome summer great and good!”
All the fierceness of the storm
Lost in tangles of the wood.

Summer stems the languid stream,
Galloping horses rush the pool,
Bracken bristles everywhere,
White bog cotton is in bloom.

Scant of breath the burdened bees
Carry home the flowery spoil,
To the mountains go the cows,
The ant is glutted with his meal.

The woodland harp plays all day long,
The sail falls and the world's at rest,
A mist of heat upon the hills
And the water full of mist.

The corncrake drones, a mighty bard,
The cold cascade that leaps the rock
Sings of the snugness of the pool,
Their season come, the rushes talk.

The man grows strong, the virgin blooms
In all her glory, firm and light,
Bright the far and fertile plain,
Bright the wood from floor to height.

And here among the meadowlands
An eager flock of birds descends,
There a stream runs white and fast
Where the murmuring meadow bends.

And you long to race your horse
Wildly through the parted crowd,
The sun has scarcely touched the land
Yet the waterflags are gold.

Frightened, foolish, frail, a bird
Sings of it with throbbing breast,
The lark that flings its praise abroad,
May the brightest and the best.