May is Mary's month, and I br Muse at that and wonder why: br Her feasts follow reason, br Dated due to season— br br Candlemas, Lady Day; br But the Lady Month, May, br Why fasten that upon her, br With a feasting in her honour? br br Is it only its being brighter br Than the most are must delight her? br Is it opportunest br And flowers finds soonest? br br Ask of her, the mighty mother: br Her reply puts this other br Question: What is Spring?— br Growth in every thing— br br Flesh and fleece, fur and feather, br Grass and greenworld all together; br Star-eyed strawberry-breasted br Throstle above her nested br br Cluster of bugle blue eggs thin br Forms and warms the life within; br And bird and blossom swell br In sod or sheath or shell. br br All things rising, all things sizing br Mary sees, sympathising br With that world of good, br Nature's motherhood. br br Their magnifying of each its kind br With delight calls to mind br How she did in her stored br Magnify the Lord. br br Well but there was more than this: br Spring's universal bliss br Much, had much to say br To offering Mary May. br br When drop-of-blood-and-foam-dapple br Bloom lights the orchard-apple br And thicket and thorp are merry br With silver-surfed cherry br br And azuring-over greybell makes br Wood banks and brakes wash wet like lakes br And magic cuckoocall br Caps, clears, and clinches all— br br This ecstasy all through mothering earth br Tells Mary her mirth till Christ's birth br To remember and exultation br In God who was her salvation.