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Title: A May Burden
Author: Francis Thompson [
More Titles by Thompson]
Through meadow-ways as I did tread,
The corn grew in great lustihead,
And hey! the beeches burgeon-ed.
By Godd-es fay, by Godd-es fay!
It is the month, the jolly month,
It is the jolly month of May.
God ripe the wines and corn, I say
And wenches for the marriage-day,
And boys to teach love's comely play.
By Godd-es fay, by Godd-es fay!
It is the month, the jolly month,
It is the jolly month of May.
As I went down by lane and lea,
The daisies reddened so, pardie!
'Blushets!' I said, 'I well do see,
By Godd-es fay, by Godd-es fay!
The thing ye think of in this month,
Heigho! this jolly month of May.'
As down I went by rye and oats,
The blossoms smelt of kisses; throats
Of birds turned kisses into notes;
By Godd-es fay, by Godd-es fay!
The kiss it is a growing flower,
I trow, this jolly month of May!
God send a mouth to every kiss,
Seeing the blossom of this bliss
By gathering doth grow, certes!
By Godd-es fay, by Godd-es fay!
Thy brow-garland pushed all aslant
Tells--but I tell not, wanton May!
[NOTE. The first two stanzas are from a French original--I have forgotten what.]
[The end]
Francis Thompson's poem: May Burden
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