By Edith Willis Linn

A white shower falls from the apple tree,
Good-bye good-bye, sweet May!
I will not mourn at beauty lost,
For there comes as fair a day;
But such a wealth of sweets is thine,
Such blooms of flower and spray,
We can but sigh that gaining June,
We still must lose our May.

Only for once in the whole long year
Are the trees so robed in bloom;
Only for once the lilac flowers
Yield up such rare perfume;
Only for once the birds sing forth
A melody so gay;
The sweetest promise of the year
Comes with the flowers of May.

We dream of these days through the winter long,
When dreary lies the snow,
And picture forth what joys were ours
In the Mays of long ago;
But when the time brings forth the bloom
From the buds of leaf and spray,
We find our loveliest dreams were vain
To show the sweets of May.

And waking morn, with golden sun,
Is filled with gladdest sound,
The chords of music seem to thrill
Along the very ground,
For insect life awakes and moves
To join the roundelay
That breaks along the happy earth
In the fair time of May.

Our hearts forget from year to year
How pink the apple bloom,
We cannot carry in our mind
Such wealth of rich perfume;
At every step we feel surprise
At the glory of the day,
And wonder if the world has been
As fair in every May.

But time has in its bosom much
To give for our delight.
There is a promise in the flower
So beautiful and white.
The green fields mean a fair, rich yield
When spring has passed away,
And the birds will know a deeper joy
Than comes to them in May.

Fall down, fall down, oh! shower of white
And make the ground like snow,
For underneath those petals fair
The fruit is hid, I know.
And hasten on, oh! golden sun,
There’s joy with every day
Our world would not be half as rich
If life could be all May.

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